Today I'm going to tell you how we got Dita, our brindle tortoiseshell cat. She's lived with us about eight years and is a cute beast, who seems to have comic timing and a tendency towards burlesque.
The story actually begins with Hobbes, we were worried that he was lonely when we went out, in part because he's one of those cats who likes to go about with you. He used to trot up to the bus stop with us, dogging (sorry catting) our heels. The problem was that once we were on the bus, he would stay there all day. We came home to answer phone messages from concerned people, worried that he was just waiting, and waiting for us. You'd think that as a former stray he would have more sense, but no. Bless his little white paws. We didn't know at the time that he had lots of friends about the place and were worried. In addition, Eve wanted a cat of her own, having been fooled by Hobbes' pretence at a sedate nature when we first met him; cat flu with do that to a boy, apparently. We took him down to the RSPCA and introduced him to a few Queens, and he was not happy. The Lady from the RSPCA said he looked like he was going to be submissive to a girl cat (nothing to do with him being out of his element and a bit freaked out then?) and in the end we came away empty handed.
I don't remember what the other cats were like, but I know I was looking in at one when I thought I heard Eve say 'Dita', and turned to check. She actually said Dee Dee, which was what the RSPCA staff had landed the poor cat with. She had been one of a pair, but her sister had been adopted a few days before, leaving 'Dee Dee' alone.
While most of the cats were up and prowling about, Dita just lay in her basket, letting us fuss her. She came across as quiet, and gentle, even consenting to belly rubs. We talked about it, I was unsure - I liked her but the fact she seemed so placid worried me - but as Eve really liked her, we said we wanted to adopt her.
After the usual check where someone came around to see if we were fit hoomans to look after one of the feline overlords, and a nasty shock when we learnt we couldn't get her at the start of our week's holiday at the end of July (there being an implication that they would put her to sleep if we didn't get her straight away), we brought her home. And failed utterly.
You know how you're meant to cloister your new cat, keep them in one room and slowly make
She's a cute little beast, as I said above. She still loves belly rubs, and is far too fond of food. She and Hobbes still fight a lot, though to be fair he isn't always the aggressor (she usually gets a look of 'oh crap what have I done, if she does start it though). At least they've never played cat flap wars, the way my friend Bert's cats did. And she seems happy, and that's the main thing, right?