This is Shia. She is eight weeks old. She would not be in this picture if it wasn't for the bad mood and crappy day chronicled in my Post of Despair
Shortly after I published that post, Leelo's school aide Rosie, who has started working with Leelo at home, called to say that she couldn't come in because her cat had ten kittens and her dad said they had to go today or they were going to the pound and did we want one?
I called Seymour and begged please please please cute tiny kitten we can save it and waaaaaaaaaaah I had a bad day and the only thing that will help is a cute tiny kitten please please please we haven't had a cute tiny kitten in thirteen years oh please? I suspect he would have done anything to get me to stop behaving like a twelve-year-old, so he said yes. I now owe him a to-be-named Big Favor.
Rosie brought Shia over about an hour after the unsuspecting Iz got home from camp. Our eldest went into unprecedented hysterics of joy for about five minutes. That was pretty amazing to watch.
And how that our washer is fixed and I've got my head back, I think adopting Shia was the right thing to do. Seymour seems to like her, too.
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