Buddah was recently rescued from a kill shelter by the SPCA; he’s about 9 weeks old and looks like he has a little Siamese in him, but other than that we really don’t know much about him. We walked into Petco this morning (we went because we knew they were going to be there with kittens, this wasn’t a oh-look-how-cute-let’s-take-one-home thing) and the Boy knew right away that was the kitten. So for the rest of the day he’s hanging in his room to keep the little furball company, and if he has to go somewhere I’ll go plop down on his bed and watch TV and let Buddah get to know me a little bit.
Max knows there’s something in that room, and he’s a little worried, so he’ll get extra attention (whether he likes it or not…) over the next few days and hopefully this whole thing will work out. I’m not too worried since he’s always trying to get the stray cats outside to come to the window to talk to him, but you never know. He did go nuts on the vet, and there’s a slim chance he’ll try to eat Buddah.
Sheesh, that sounds like a bad novel title. Eating Buddah.
I’ll have to remember it.