We have aquired a new cat. We didn't WANT a new cat, but it seems to have chosen us, so who are we to argue. Someone apparently unceremoniously dumped it...and that's another pet peeve of mine to discuss on a different day.

I'm saying "it" because Mr. Hooter and I are not in agreement as to the cat's sex. I know I should know these things, as I've had cats my whole life, but cats are difficult...this cat is either female, neutered male, or immature male. I say male, Mr. Hooter says female. We shall see who is right. Just the other day, Mr. Hooter uttered the words that few wives hear spoken by a man even once in their lifetime: "I was wrong, you were right." I am eager to hear those words again, but I'm afraid I won't until I get this new cat to the vet for a check-up and possibly shots, assuming he/she hasn't already had them. As of now, the cat has been dubbed "Matilda." Don't look at me - I didn't come up with it.

Here's Sally and Matilda's first meeting...the exact moment of impact. Sally got too friendly to fast, which is a personality flaw of most dogs, I'm afraid. Sally paid the price and was about knocked into the next county.