Felinicity

My lesbian card just got punched.

No, I didn't have a hot date. (Still working on that--with the help of several straight women friends on a mission to find me a new girlfriend.)

So what did I do to up my lesbo-quotient?

I got a second cat.

Yep. The slippery slope from flying under-the-gaydar to pinging to high heaven starts with multiple cats. If not arrested, the descent will gather speed as it takes an inexorable downhill slide through massive weight gain, humorlessness, touchiness, separatism, mullets, cheap beer, and a complete loss of fashion sense until it drops me into some sorry-assed dive full of drunken middle-aged women jousting at each other with their pool cues.

I did not just say that.

Anyway, I'm gone a lot, and I've been thinking that Big Guy needed some companionship. Not to mention exercise. I was looking at his girth and envisioning his own slippery slope, beginning with obesity and leading first to diabetes, then to renal failure, and ending up with the two of us bonding over a bag of sub-cutaneous fluids. (Been there, done that, with a previous cat. Thank God for the local hospital pharmacy--they saved me big bucks on the fluids and the Epogen.)

So, I acquired an older kitten. He's settling in nicely, and keeping Mr. Huge on his toes. I think that they will become good friends. And I'm enjoying him, too--he's a nice kitty. Pet-wise, there's nothing better than having a couple of friendly, sturdy alley cats in the house.

Except that I think the new guy is passing.

I thought that I was getting this nice little domestic short hair. Then, he started talking. "Okay," I thought, "his voice is a little raspy." And I began to notice his long, slender face and body. And his little oval paws, which he uses a lot to reach for stuff. And his muscular hind legs, all the better for jumping around at 2 AM. And the texture of his fur.

And it started to dawn on me that someone in his family tree was most likely Siamese.

Uh-oh. I've had a couple of them in the past, and they're certifiable. Total spazzes who find all kinds of creative ways to turn your home upside down. Definitely not my breed of choice.

But what the Hell. He's here to stay, so Mr. Big and I will both have to learn to sleep with one eye open.

And to be fair, I'll bet that the new kitty's been looking at my family pictures and saying to himself, "Oh my God. I thought I was getting adopted by some nice white lady. But, she's really a chola!"