Poor Dweezil...

Where you'll be, I'll go
Where you'll be, I'll know
Where you'll be, I'll find you


Upon the incessant request of my wife, we have adopted a cat. Her given name is Fluff'n'Stuff, but she is addressed by an onslaught of variations thereof. She was a stray being fed in our neighbor lady's back yard with her three siblings. She was chosen because she was the tiniest one and seemed the most helpless of all of them, and she took an immediate liking to Bethany. She'd just sit and purr while Bethany pet her wittle head. So after a purchase of kitten food, a night spent in solitude in our bathroom, and an irresponsibly large Vet bill, she was ours.

We say it feels like we've adopted her from a third world country because she came with fleas, worms, and some other intestinal infection that she's taking a five day dose of antibiotics to treat. She still has some potty training kinks we're working out, but she seems to be adjusting well otherwise. She is definitely an extra responsibility and a unrelenting distraction which I concede is an unwise investment at this stage of life, but you know what? Shut up.

Furthermore, I have been officially wooed by all one pound three ounces of her Fluffiest of Stuffs. She is a much more precious creature than either Bethany or I had anticipated. And here's a look at my hairy umbilicus to demonstrate.



The only one left to adjust in the house is our other son. His initial reaction was the equivalent of the prodigal son's brother. He would only go near her to hiss and walk away to glare at her from a safe distance. He's been slowly coming around (he can almost relax with her in the room), but it will be a while yet. She has been trying to befriend him, but he will have nothing of the sort. Their interaction is basically hilarious. Since corresponding with other cats has been a part of her whole life, she is relentlessly brazen with Dweezil. This translates into her chasing him all around the house under the impression that they're playmates. Dweezil, on the other hand, is running away from her as intensely as he can because he is frightened and confused. Yes, Dweezil is our home-schooled cat.

I originally told Bethany the deal was that Dweezil will be back to his normal weird self in two weeks or she'll have to go, ...but I'm not so sure I'll be able to follow through.

Fluffy Stuff from Daniel JD on Vimeo.