A few weeks ago Steve said to me “I think I’m going to call her Patches”.  I looked at him inquisitively and asked “who?”  As I was posing the question to him I got a feeling in the pit of my stomach.  Oh my, here we go again.

When we put in the pool 12 years ago, there was an extra foreman on the job.  He was a black cat with big green eyes who strolled around the project as if he was the guy in charge.  During the evenings he rolled around on the newly hardened concrete like we had it poured it just for him.  He hung around all summer terrorizing our inside cats by staring in the windows at them.  When the leaves started to fall and chill was in the air, he disappeared for the winter.  The following spring I saw him walking up the driveway like he was returning from his winter home in Florida.  This pattern repeated for a few years so much so that we gave him a name.   One year, Inkie decided to stay with us for holidays which evolved into making our home his permanent residence.  When we took him to the vet to make sure he was healthy and okay to be inside, the vet said that sometimes cats pick their owners.  Inkie had adopted us.   When I say “us” I really mean Steve.   That cat stole Steve’s heart from Day 1.  Steve was thrilled he was officially part of the family.

They say that history repeats itself.  In our feline case, it certainly does.  Steve’s Patches turned out to be an adorable, tiny, skin and bones kitten.  Her coloring is beautiful.  She is calico with a white body and patches of black and orange and a black tail.  At first Steve denied feeding her but when I saw the bowl in the garden the cat was out of the bag.  Patches was very skittish but after my softie animal lover and cat whisperer husband spent time with her she became less fearful.

When a nasty storm was predicted Steve decided to create a haven for her in the garage.  I continued to hold my ground about bringing her into the house until she was vet checked.  After her health clearance and the proper shots, Steve began the integration process.  Kiera was in heaven because she got a playmate; Inkie was a tougher sell.

Now there are three pets in this house.  Inkie looks disdainfully at the other two as they romp around the house.  Honestly, it sounds like they are galloping. I have a new found respect for Inkie because I suspect the kids annoy him to no end and yet he puts up with their activity without complaint.

At first I wasn’t so sure about the addition but I must admit to enjoying the heck out of watching them play.  Kiera and Patches roll and tumble and lick and kick.  When they are exhausted and snuggle in for a nap it’s a signal for me to do the same.   I just wish Princess Patches’ presence didn’t wreak such havoc into my morning routine.  It’s tough to get Kiera out the door first thing to do her business because she is way too interested in playing.  I just hope she doesn’t play so hard that it’s too late to get her outside. And, yes, I call her Princess Patches because she looks like one to me.

I wonder how these wayward animals find their way to us.  I’m pretty sure they’ve hit the jackpot.  I’m pretty sure it works out well for us, too.