Wherein Charlotte Becomes Harry Becomes Charlie

I had the most delightful weekend last week with my fun friend, Andrea, and her family.  Did I mention that I LOVE them?  Oh my.  Relaxing and fun and generous and kind and funny and awesome.

And did I mention that they are the Bearers of Cats?  Why yes, yes I did.

Andrea's daughter's cat, Olive, had kittens in May and knowing how berefit I was without a kitters since my Su Su passed on to the Great Beyond, she and I discussed becoming cat in-laws (MY words...shockingly, she thinks of her pets as ANIMALS instead of Little People in Cat Suits) months ago.  It was planned that I would come spend the weekend with her and take a kitty baby home.  She sent me these pictures (unnamed) so I could see what the babies looked like:



Charlie

Charlotte

Or so I thought.  After requesting the girl kitty (you know, because I'm already outnumbered by the males in this home), I immediately took to that sweet little picture above with the beautiful white face.  I thought she was so pretty and knew that we would be instant BFFs.  I thought long and hard for the perfect name for my new kitty.  And being a huge "Jane Eyre" fan (Charlotte Bronte, of course), and since Andrea was from near Charlotte, NC when I met her and lives in Charlottesville, VA now (rocking the photography world on a national basis I KID YOU NOT), how could I miss with "Charlotte?"

 

So, after a nice four hour drive (during which I listened to The Help, which, sidenote, is the most amazing book to listen to!  I read it a couple of summers ago, but decided to listen to it on CD while I drove to pass the time.  GREAT DECISION! Blown away by the different characters voices!), I arrived at Andrea's home and promptly begged for a kitty.  Not a potty or a beverage, mind you.  Just my little fluffball, please. 

 

And umm.  Little mix-up.  Seems I somehow mislabeled the above kitties before meeting them.  Charlotte actually is the one with a thin white stripe on her nose and Harry (as they had been calling him) was the one with the white face.  Whoops!

 

And really, I was open-minded to either kitty, although I was still a bit smitten with Harry.  And, as luck would have it, Andrea's precious tween daughter was more smitten with Charlotte.

 

So, you know, being the sacrifical type (you know that about me, right?) and thinking solely of THE CHILDREN, I agreed to take Harry home and leave Charlotte with sweet Emma.

 

I re-named Harry to "Charlie" (one of his original names before Andrea's family settled on "Harry") and off we trotted home on Sunday afternoon.  Charlie mostly rode on the floorboard near the brake pedal.  No need for lectures about the safety of that decision.  It is pure miracle that Charlie and I made it home in one piece.

And Charlie seems to be settling in well.  Anywhere he wants.  He llooovveess him some Lu Dog, and she is tolerating him surprisingly well.  He's a cuddler but very playful and adventurous and curious.

 

"Scamp" may have been a better name for him.

 

And I, personally, am glad to officially reinstate my Crazy Cat Lady title once again.