Meow?

I've been here for five months now, and somehow I've managed to go all that time without having a cat. I've ALWAYS had cats! But after Mr. Darcy had to be put down (he lived with Julie and me in Oklahoma, had feline leukemia and wasn't in the best condition), I don't think I was ready to get another cat. But for some reason I haven't been the happiest the last month or so, and Matt and I decided it was a good time to get a cat, since it would be company for me and, well, kittehs make me happy. :)

Meet Elliott:

Some girls a few streets over found her outside their front door, and they were looking for a home for her. When we tried to get her in the car to take her home, she decided to make a run for it and ran zig-zags across the parking lot to try to avoid going anywhere, but was ultimately trapped when one of the girls put out a container of fish that she just couldn't resist. We captured her, put her in a box and got her into the car before she could do anything, but once in the car she managed to escape again. I managed to get her back in the box to get her into my apartment, but if we ever take her anywhere again, I will have to get her a proper carrying unit.

We spent two days trying to come up with suitable names, Matt's getting ridiculous and mine getting literary, until we decided on something we both liked: Scrubs, the TV show. And Elliott's name.

I think she's happy here, so far. I am happy she's here.

Another funny story: I was on the webcam talking to my family. We all have Macs, so we can use iChat to have four-way conferences, so all four of us were on the camera, and my mom had her cat, Tugger, my sister had "Audrey-boo" (her cat), and I had as-yet-un-named Elliott. My dad sat there and thought, and said, "Maybe I should get a cat. Or a boa constrictor."

He's not much of a cat person. He still says the only reason we got Tugger was because he'd had too many chocolate chip cookies and wasn't feeling right-minded. In 1996.