A tale of 4 kitties
Dufus Claudius was living in the mountains and kept trying to get out and roam. Not a good idea because of owls, coyotes, and feral dogs. His owners wanted to know if anyone on the city would give him a good home. I had just lost Marmalade to kidney failure. That was 10 years ago.

Five years ago the old girls died in the same month, one of cancer and one of kidney failure, and a science fiction club member said one of her neighbors had abandoned their cat when they moved and he was wandering around the complex helpless. Did anyone want to adopt him? Well, all right - Dufus could use some younger company. That was Spot.

My friend Ruth had a massive stroke two and a half years ago and had to go into a nursing home. Her Care Committee/housesitters/arrangers of estate sales mentioned her pair of yap dogs and her pair of established house cats. And then the traumatized rescue kitten who (insert tale of mishandling that would give any kitten PTSD) she called "Poophead". In outrage I rose up and said "Her name is Shadow! Poor kitty! I'll adopt her." All the while thinking, Omigawd, THREE cats again?

This past winter, while they were still trying to lure Shadow out of hiding enough to catch her and bring her to me, well, you know the story of Babs-now-Buster.

Last Saturday it was time to take Shadow home. I think she's still in the house, but only by indirect evidence. Her house & cat sitter, Becca. says this is normal for her. Poor kitty. One can only hope I really do own a little brown scaredy cat.