Nothing if not persistent

So Splotch was actually the 4th cat we have attempted to have.

The first was back in June last year, when a friend forwarded me an email from a colleague about a lost cat looking for a new home. The cat had been living in the colleague's garden for a couple of months, there'd been no response to the "found cat" notices he put up, and he already had two cats and didn't want a third.

I asked C if we could have him. He sighed and said if there was really no one else willing to take him, we could.

All was arranged. We were to pick him up in two days time, a Saturday. And then on the Friday, the owner appeared.

The same friend, and this time her colleague too, then forwarded me an email about another cat looking for a new home. Her owners, a youngish couple living in an apartment, felt she needed more attention and the chance to go outside. Well, the boy felt this, the girl was not so sure. She was being Very Picky about who would get Millie.

I drove the kids 40 minutes to their place one Saturday morning so we could be assessed, where I dutifully admired all 756 of the cat's kitten photos, discussed my easing-cat-into-new-home plan, and promised to send regular photos and updates on how Millie was settling in. All without rolling my eyes. (At least not that they saw.)

We were declared The Chosen Family. A date was set for them to deliver her to us.

Only then I remembered we were going to Sydney five weeks later, for a month. A month outside in the snow seemed a little cruel, as did sending her to a cattery so soon after moving to a new home. So they said we could have her once we got back. And when we got back, they had decided they would keep her.

By this time, C's brother's family had adopted a cat. On hearing that she wasn't desexed, I said we'd have one of her kittens.

Hence Tabby. Poor Tabby.

And then we got Splotch. Poor Splotch.

(I am really not being flippant, I can't bear to think of them being eaten by a fox.)

The week that Splotch disappeared, we got an email from one of the people we'd contacted about a kitten after Tabby disappeared, letting us know her mother had kittens to give away if we were still looking for one.

We stalled a bit, but by the end of last week it was clear Splotch was gone for good.

So yesterday, I went to pick up our 5th attempt...

...Quincy.

Although, as I discovered a couple of hours after bringing her home, an equally descriptive name would have been Flea Bag.