Those of you who’ve been hanging around here for awhile may recognize the newest addition to our household. Marsha T. Cat came to us about 7 years ago from an animal rescue place. She was an odd little kitten who liked to put waterdish-moistened tissues in her food and was frightened of the dryer (until she licked it and made friends). Then we moved into an apartment that didn’t allow pets, and Marsha went to live with my stepmother. And there she stayed until this week, when we readopted her.

She was silent and calm for the entire 12-plus-hour car ride home, and right away it was as if she’d never taken a years-long vacation at all. She is still an odd little thing, complete with the gross tissue thing. She still follows me around everywhere and curls up on my lap and yowls into Rockford’s ear for breakfast promptly at 6am. (He is not please with that recurrence.) The kids adore her, and she either tolerates the adoration or hides under the bed until they go away.

I can’t adequately describe how pleased I am that the furball’s back in town.