A little grey puffball

Okay, laugh at me. It's not on purpose and I swear I'm not trying to find any.

We found a kitten yesterday.

No, really.

Shut up.

For a couple of days now I've been hearing a phantom meowing outside my bedroom window (hootin' and hollerin'? hee). Yesterday H found me outside in a robe and slipper looking for the meows. Nothing.

Finally we heard it louder than ever. We looked together and saw, finally, a loud piece of grey fluff. Pissed grey fluff. We just looked at each other with a big seriously? why are we cat magnets?

Maybe my history as a cat magnet is not widely known. But trust me, the cats? They find me. They know I'm a big softie.

Miraculously, we had no problem picking it up and it stopped crying as soon as it was held, which melted me. Of course, it was scrawny so we fed it and now it's in the house. I think she's a girl, but it's hard to tell on a tiny baby. I tried to take her to the vet this morning, but Dearborn had a huuuuge wait when I got there, so I left. THAT was a waste of time. I'll need to take her this week.

I'll try to find her a home, but, honestly? I wouldn't hate if I had to keep her.

NOW you can laugh.

But seriously, H and I are working out a custody agreement for our kitties and he's taking Eepie, we think (due to a multitude of reasons which we've talked to death), which is really hard, but I'm not bitchy OR selfish enough to insist on keeping all three of our kitties. He loves them as much as me.

So maybe this little puffball was supposed to show up. We're showing our house and already have one seriously stressed out cat and everything is an a state of upheaval and it's terrible timing, but all my kitties have had terrible timing. And, hey, things will work out. Right?

I'll try to find a home, and if I do, I'll let her go. If I don't, I'll keep her.

It's fate either way. Or something.