It’s week three (or maybe four) of Helena’s first-ever indoor grass patch. I’ve yet to catch her chillaxing on the turf, but the cat-shaped imprint there tells me all I need to know.
As far as I can tell, there’s no way to know if you’re near the end of a Sodastream tank. Is there a name for the anxiety that comes with this uncertainty?
NO points for answering “first world problem.” None whatsoever.
I still miss my beloved Marla Singer, but eventually I realized that the best way to honor her memory was to open my home to a cat who really needed one.
Plus, I just plain missed having a cat around the house.
Helena’s 2.5 years old, 9 pounds, and has similar coloring to Marla (I have a weakness for tuxedos) but with a personality and energy level that’s very different from my former cat.
She’s pure joy to be around.
Helena was the name the ASPCA gave her but I like it, so I’ll keep it. However, I’ll most likely add a few other names once I decide on them. Current favorites include: Helena Bonham Catter Chan and Helena Bonbon Chan, to keep the Fight Club references going…