At the grocery store this morning I picked up a couple gallons of bleach and 64 cans of kitty food. We'll be bringing these gifts to the animal shelter tomorrow. Diva and I want to play with the kitties. Consider it a bribe, LOL.
Walker and I have been discussing getting another kitty, or two. Walker is "sort of" okay with one baby kitten. I think cats do well with a feline companion, so I'm lobbying for two. I'm also not sure I want to dive into kitten-hood again. I remember coming home from work when Ernie was a baby. I could hear her yowling all the way down the hall to our apartment. She would climb the curtains and get stuck up there. Every. Stinking. Day. We weren't technically allowed to have pets so I was always tearing down the hall as fast as my tired feet would carry me. I'm surprised nobody ratted us out with all her wailing. Curtain climbing was only part of the battle. There was shredded toilet paper, houseplants dug up and dragged around, flower vases knocked over (not to mention destroyed flowers and puddles of water), trash cans tipped over, and don't get me started on Christmas trees. They are just one giant cat toy. Ernie's brother, Sassy, used to drink the tree water and barf all over the model train I had under the tree. Guess it was a good thing I didn't have a Nativity scene. I'm going to have enough to atone for at the Pearly Gates without having to apologize for kitty barf on the Baby Jesus.
So kittens are fun but boy, they do take work. Walker has never had the pleasure, he has no idea that two pounds of fur can wreak absolute havoc. But he isn't thrilled with the idea of an older cat. I pointed out that if we got a baby now, and she lived as long as Ernie, Walker would be 70 before that kitty crossed the bridge. He wants to travel when he retires. He had to give some thought to the idea that we'd be more tied to home if we had pets. I think we need to put the whole conversation on the shelf for now. If we're not 100% sure, we need to wait.