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It is hard to catch white cat sitting still. It is nearly impossible to catch her sitting still and being photogenic. Fiona and I seem to have beat the odds as I caught her resting on our table minutes before our Solstice Party began; she was inspecting the table cloth making sure it was up to her high standards.
Holiday Cat approves of this photo. :)
Vishnu and Fiona are still in the process of acclimatising to each other. It has gotten better, as catured in these pictures. :)
Trying to get a picture while keeping the kittehs in their sombre monorail arrangement proved tough to photograph.
Darn cats kept on moving, the nerve.
The look I get, often accompanied by a wet nose on my leg, reminding me to practice the social democratic values I espouse.
A pic from earlier in the year, with the high summer sun lighting our bedroom and most favorite dog, Shadow. :)
The mouse contains some kind of electronic accelerometer thingmy that makes a high-pitched beeping/squeaking noise when it gets jerked around. Fiona will chase it until she’s panting.
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When I learned Lilith was dying, I felt like my heart was going to implode. The only thing that seemed to keep enough outward pressure was knowing that there would be another cat to love after she was gone, so I became the cause of probably 25% of the web traffic for the local Humane Society, looking for just the right cat to be next in my heart. There were two candidates originally, both selected because their profiles mentioned them getting along well with other cats. One got adopted in less than a week, long before Lilith vacated her position; the other just lingered and lingered and I couldn’t figure out why when she was so pretty and was described as totally sweet.
After Lilith died, I went to the Humane Society and met this candidate, and she snuggled into my arms and scent marked my cheek with hers. I fell all googly-eyed in love. Arb sighed melancholically because more cats means more vacuuming, and this one is long-haired and all white. Love prevailed, and I brought her home last night and named her Fiona.
Here are her first moments exploring the room where we’re keeping her while she and V-Kitten get to know one another by hissing under the door.
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bleatmop
Mystro
The Arbourist
Dead Wild Roses 
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