Kitty recruitment drive.

This is a really awkward thing to discuss so soon after Chloe’s death, but there are several very good reasons to start thinking about her successor.
Do we need another cat? Yes. Yes, we do. In my current job, I’m at work from around 5pm until…well, here of late, further notice. I’m hoping very soon to be out from under this job and out of the broadcast business, which at this point has become pure drudgery and pure misery. If nothing else, my recent experiments with internet video have proven to me that I can create Really Cool Stuff and put it out there for all to see – without having to do it at a local TV station that pays a pittance. At any rate, the upshot of this is that my wife is usually stuck at home alone in the evenings, something which Chloe made bearable because Chloe stuck to her like glue. My wife also wants a cat who is “hers” – though I think the fact that my eyes are still red and swollen from crying over “her” cat kind of explodes this “my cat” myth.
But it’s not just her and me.
Othello has now outlived both of his kitty companions, and while he’s fond of Xena, that’s just not the same – Xena doesn’t share the house with him. We’re already having to encourage Othello to not go off his own food. He also needs someone to chase around (and chase him back) so he can stay active – for 12 years old, Othello is a very fit cat, and usually a pretty happy one. Right now he’s pretty melancholy – oddly enough, he’s hanging out with my wife an awful lot, not something he’s normally prone to do, and not something she usually welcomes. But I think they’ve both lost their best buddy.
And so has Xena – Chloe spent a lot of time outside with Xena, and Xena would “babysit” her and keep any other dogs from the nearest houses away from her. Chloe would repay the favor by rubbing up against this Aussie Shepherd/Rottweiler mix that had to be ten times her size, and purring like a freight train. Ever since Xena saw us carry Chloe’s body out of the house this morning on her little pillow to take her to her final resting place at the farm, that dog has been down so low. Even when I pay her attention and play with her, I’m getting a token tail-wag at best.
There’s a two-week period coming up in May where our only pregnant mare is supposed to deliver a baby, and wife is taking off work to basically camp out up at the farm to keep an eye on her (kinda funny – she did the same thing when this expecting mom was the new baby), and she’s got some postal function in early June, so I don’t think we’ll be getting a new kitty before those two things happen. And I hope Othello and Xena don’t let their health go to hell during that time.
But after that, I think it’s time for the pitter patter of little paws. I brought up the possibility of re-adopting Sampson, but he’s king of the kittens at my sister-in-law’s place – he has a very important job, and would be terribly missed by the other cats there. So, tempting as it is, Sammy Cat stays put.
On one final note, for now, about all that’s happened in the past 24 hours…I officially want to exchange this weekend for a different one. I have a receipt. For some reason, a phrase pops into my head that I remember from the foreword to a book about the making of the Doctor Who audio plays; the foreward was by Russell T. Davies, who is now producing the TV show, talking about how he had resisted the audio incarnation of Who until he gave up smoking and decided he needed “something wonderful” in his life to fill that gap. I’m in the need of something wonderful right now myself. I don’t know if it’s going to come in the form of a change of job, or our horse’s baby, or something else. But…yeah. I really do. I think we all do.