“Look, I don’t know if you know this, but we’ve got a rat problem and we’re looking for a ratter. If you or anyone you know is looking for a home, all you have to do is kill the rats.” I showed the cat the hole in the yard. He blinked at me. “So, just sayin’, if you’re interested or know someone that is, all you have to do is get rid of them.”

These are alley cats. They’re alley rats. I know the cats are already out there hunting but it couldn’t hurt, right?

It is a sweet cat and he does seem pretty insistent on moving in, though. But the vet bills! The food! The socializing of multiple cats!

I suspect Buddy/Ghost is better with multiple cats than our current cats are. Anime and Rita hate each other. Rita doesn’t seem to be thrilled with the idea of another cat coming in, either — she liked Robin well enough but they weren’t exactly what you’d call “friendly” or “social”. Buddy/Ghost also seems to like Cardiff. Of course, Rita seemed to like Cardiff too until she moved in….

While I’m not opposed to getting another cat, I’m not sure it should be this cat. We’d talked about maybe getting a kitten from BARCS or another local rescue … but not until November, when Kitti won’t be working full-time and can be there to help keep it out of trouble or stop it from getting beaten up too badly.

Kitti says “Well, we could get him and still get a kitten…”.

Have I ever mentioned that Kitti is not really a pet person? Seriously, they annoy him more often than not. There is something seriously wrong in the universe if he’s the one suggesting multiple adoptions and I’m the one saying “wait, maybe not”.

If the world ends soon, it’s not my fault. But I did try to warn you.

The dog came in right behind him, tail wagging, managing to look pleased with himself. Rita, the grey cat, was sitting in the middle of the kitchen.

The black cat said “meow”. That’s when we all realized it wasn’t actually Robin. Rita hissed. I went “aw”. The black cat resumed eating.

The whole thing was a few seconds but was incredibly surreal. For a second we were all convinced it was just Robin, and not the neighbor’s indoor-outdoor cat that looks almost exactly like him (at first glance, at least. If you look at him for a few minutes you start to see all the differences — the length and texture of the fur, the shape of the head and eyes).

I lured “Buddy” back out of the house, but not before he did a thorough exam of our back porch, as if he were sizing up his new home. I apologized to him and gave him some food as incentive to not set up housekeeping inside the house (he’s welcome to hang out in the yard all he wants).

I really think the dog was proud of himself for finding and returning “Robin” and he didn’t quite understand why I shooed him back outside. I feel kind of bad for taking away the dog’s “friend”. My neighbor and her grandson are both very insistent that it’s okay if we keep him, but I can’t do it. He’s a little too much like Robin.

Yesterday morning, very early, Kitti, Steeb-the-Roommate, and I went to the vet with Robin. When we took him in he was having trouble walking and was wheezing a lot. The vet suspects the tumor that caused his hyperthyroidism spread to his lungs (and possibly further) so it was clearly the right time. Robin was still mentally with it, but so tired and so uncomfortable that it would’ve been cruel to put it off any longer. To be honest, we probably put it off longer than we should have.

Steeb stayed with Robin during the procedure which was very fitting. Robin was born on Steeb’s lap 16 years ago.

Stupid cat. Stupid, shedding, shouting cat. He was a good boy and lasted 16 years despite all his attempts to off himself — like swallowing sewing needles, or constantly sleeping with his head hanging over the edge of tables so he’d choke.

He was smart in his own way. I’ve never had another cat who would run for the litterbox when he needed to barf. He was great to watch TV with. And he was one of the few cats I’ve ever had that liked having his feet rubbed.

One of the services our vet provides is a pawprint impression. I cried like a girl when I got home today and saw his prints. Those stupid toes.

I will miss you, Robin. I will miss your ears and your toes and the annoying way you loved to shove your nose in my eye when you were happy. I will miss your loud voice that betrayed your secret Siamese background. I will miss nearly stepping on you in the middle of the night because you’re sleeping in the bathroom. I will miss the way you would terrify the dog.

I will not miss picking your fur off everything because I suspect we’ll be doing that for at least another ten years.

It looks like he’s been setting up a base under the black eyed susans (with occasional stops under the fig tree). He’s very friendly, good with dogs, and actually belongs to a neighbor who believes that cats should be outside most of the time. I’m sure he has a real name, but I’ve just started calling him Yardcat.

There’s also a Mrs Yardcat.

She also belongs to the same neighbor, and she’s much shyer.

I still don’t want the dog eating what he finds in the yard, but I’m considerably less creeped out now. And Cardiff has a new friend.

Today is also Cardiff’s third anniversary. Three years ago today we brought him home. He was good for the entire car ride from Stafford, Virginia to Baltimore, Maryland. Seconds after I parked the car, he barfed. Good times. Good times. Thankfully, car trips no longer make him puke. He’s not the kind of dog to get hyper-excited about going in the car, but he’s okay with it. He just likes to sit in the back seat and stare out the window.

Cardiff, in honor of your “gotcha day”, you get to spend the day in doggie daycare with all your friends!

• Tell someone in the store closest to where the car is parked.
• Failing that, I will call the police.
• If the police or car owner doesn’t show up within 5 minutes, I will break the car window.

I do not even care that breaking your car window is illegal. I’ll stand right by the car and wait until the cops show up and explain why I did it.

“I left the window open a crack” is not acceptable.

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