October 19, 2013


Yesterday I had to be at work at 0700. I left at 1900 with the expectation that I would have to rush home, change clothing, then attend a community theater production with my fiancée. She's been looking forward to it. We originally were going to see it last week, but my boss called and asked if I could work instead, so we rescheduled.

Anyway, as I was leaving work, I got a call from the aforementioned fiancée. She wanted to warn me that when I got home, the number of cats in the house was different.

Her aunt Beverly had found two kittens meowing on her porch earlier in the day, and knowing that we already had a cat, sent the two little ones over packed in Bev's dog's crate. (I do not know if the dog was consulted.) So now we've got two kittens in a crate for the weekend, because the ASPCA is closed for the weekend.

I inspected and determined that we've got one male and one female, age somewhere in the vicinity of eight or ten weeks, i.e. shortly post-weaning. They appear to be siblings, and comfortable with humans. My hypothesis is that they're siblings that were kicked out of the house once they were old enough to have a vague chance at survival. I could be wrong and they are friendly ferals, but I would think if they were old enough to get kicked out by their mother, then they would have split up as well.

So anyway, I got home, met two kittens, changed clothing, and we went to the Ghostlight Theatre. Tonight's show was "The Deep End of the Dark", a horror story for five characters camping on an island. It was written by the theater company's manager/creative director, who was also playing one of the parts.

I found myself terribly bored. Part of the problem was that I was hungry and tired. But also the whole thing was terribly predictable- I knew who the killer was and why he did it at about the ten minute mark, and I knew how the killings were going to be accomplished by the twenty minute mark. Plus the writing was just not good, with much of the dialog sounding quite unnatural.

After the show we went home and socialized with the kittens. My future sister-in-law came over to coo at them, and despite our intention to merely foster the kittens for the weekend, my fiancée and her sister named them Sophie and Marcus. That's not a good sign.

Our existing cat, Aria, is not at all pleased with these interlopers. We're keeping them separated, so she keeps hissing, growling, nipping at people trying to pet her, and occasionally retreating to high shelves and glaring at all and sundry. I'm sympathetic, as I would be quite irate if two strangers moved into my house without so much as a by-your-leave, and I was prevented from ejecting them.

Posted by: Boviate at 09:35 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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1 The kittens are now gone and your fiancée is battling sadness.

Posted by: Hilary at Monday, October 21 2013 09:08 PM (CeQ+R)

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