It Followed Me Home

Ooh, I’m a bad, bad Carrie. I haven’t written anything in over a week! I’ve got a good excuse, though; a few good excuses, actually.

Steven was in between semesters at Auburn, so I got to experience what it’s like to have your husband with you every evening instead of just weekends. I quite enjoyed the experience, though it makes me wonder what will happen to this blog once Steven’s outta school full-time. I just might fall off the face of the earth.

Okay, second reason why I ain’t been writing. Well, in a nutshell, we saw this kitty. Come on, you know how the story goes from here: find kitty, bring him home, watch Renton kill us all . . . Well, not that bad; Renton has taken the situation quite well, actually. We followed the rules and introduced them slowly. Pretty decent experience.

And now to introduce the new baby. She’s an eight-month-old pastel calico whom we decided to name Hermione. Her intelligent-looking green eyes drew us to the name, which comes from a smart, sorta goody-goody character from the Harry Potter books. She’s a very loving cat and wants to rub her face all over every inch of everything. If rubbing doesn’t do the job, she might take a little nibble from your chin as well, so watch out.

She’s half the size of Renton, but right now she’s chasing him more than him chasing her. Renton has always been wary of things smaller than himself. Come to think of it, that’s beginning to be quite a lot of things; we have just realized he is absolutely huge! He weighs in at almost 13 pounds; need to tell his grandparents to stop giving him salmon.

And, true to my household, Hermione is already starting to gether a few middle names of her own (with Renton being ‘Renton Sid Vicious James Peter Bucky Williams). So far, her full name is ‘Hermione Nermel Fidget Itty Winking Puffs Williams — ‘Nermel’ from the annoyingly cute cat from ‘Garfield and Friends,’ ‘Fidget’ because she lays down and gets up and lays down again about twenty times before she’s comfortable, and ‘Itty Winking Puffs’ after a stuffed tiger accidentally named that by Seven. Uhh, long story.

She’s a skittish cat, too. I learned this firsthand, so to speak. There was an ill-fated event involving her, a blender, my hand, and $60 in antibiotics and a tetanus shot. My left hand is not happy.

That reminds me; I must go take that horsepill again. I’ll post some lovely pictures for later, but for right now, I’m pooped.