So, it’s working out with the cat. While she was super-grumpy at the start and had terrible bathroom manners, time in the house is gentling her and I am so glad that none of you are around to hear me squeal encouragingly in a disgusting talking-to-a-baby voice, “Who covered her poops? Who covered her poooooops?? Good Princess. Good Princess Batman.”
Why Princess Batman? The question is, “Why not Princess Batman?” I only pray that she never gets lost, because I will look like a lunatic calling for her. (I call her P.B., but Lloyd insists on her full title.)
Speaking of all of this, Lloyd loves her.
In fact, from the first night I brought her home and through all the days when I was still on the fence, you could see his determination to love this awful cat. I think he may have missed the cats more than I have. (I was only ever in ‘grieve’ mode, not ‘get another cat’ mode.) Despite the fact that she has made a few messes.
She still likes to attack him, but it’s become more playful as she realizes that we are not rivals for her food or shelter. After my family left we let her go upstairs (Rachel is allergic to cats) and as she thundered down the stairs Lloyd smiled and said (not looking up from the computer), “That’s what I’ve missed.”
You’re welcome, Lloyd.