And the cat came back...or not

Well, I didn't want to write anything until Zoë came back, but she hasn't yet. She's been gone for over a week now. I'd like to think that she just hit the road because she was tired of being put outside. (She got exiled after twice eating cookies that were in a plastic bag on the table... You'd think we would have learned not to leave them out after the first time!) So she could be somewhere else on the compound, fending for herself, scrounging off of other people... But it's more likely--since she hasn't come back at all--that something more dire happened to her. I don't really want to think about the possibilities.

I'm as heartbroken as I can be, considering our family history of cats disappearing. In a way, I've grown accustomed to it, but Zoë was my first cat that was really mine. And I keep kicking myself for making her want to leave. *sigh*

Yesterday I got a mass email from someone giving away kittens, so I wrote and said we wanted one. Honestly, half of me just wants a cat--although less so now that I have a baby to cuddle! But half of me knows that we need a feline for our rodent population, which for the moment is nil but which will grow out of control without a hunter in the house.

Obviously, this little kitty is not quite yet ready to hunt! S/he is only seven weeks old, a little calico with a tiny voice. And I'm eager to give the little one a name. Too bad we don't know if it's a boy or a girl! I'm open to name suggestions, but so far the ones I've thought of are Pippin, Hermione, and Eowyn.