We're NOT Going to Have Any More Pets!

Those words now belong in the category of "Famous Last Words." Yes, we have acquired a cat.

Actually, the cat chose us. He's a stray that hung around our yard for a week or so, then the hub started feeding it...outdoors, of course. The next thing I know, the cat is "just visiting" in the house.

"He wanted to come in," hub says in explanation with a shoulder shrug.

"Hrumph!" I retort. "I bet he opened the door, too."

The next week, another larger, fiercer cat arrives in our yard (an interloper!) and scarfs down all the food. The food moves indoors. Now the cat hangs around outside, is allowed inside for extended periods, and in general, has made himself at home. He was obviously domesticated before being dumped on the county road that runs across the back of our property.

Well, the cat remained nameless all these weeks. After all, if we didn't name it, we couldn't claim it, right? (isn't that theological?)

Well, when Karen came to visit this week, she was charged (by her sister-in-law) to come up with a name for the cat. We tried out several, none seeming to fit just right for this gray and white male cat. Some were too long, some too awkward, and some had a vague connection with meaning.

Then, today, on the ride back home, she came up with the perfect name. Introducing...
GUNSMOKE a/k/a Gunny. That's the perfect name considering his gender, his color, and hub's hobby. He's a really good lap cat and rarely meows. He's not messy with his food and...goes to the door to be let out. No litter box, hooray! What a great cat!