I'm in love. There. I said it. I'm not supposed to get attached to my foster cats. I give them affection and attention, but I don't get too close. I know they'll be leaving me sooner or later, so I enjoy their company and work on being good at letting them go to their new home, but...
...I want this cat to stay with us.
Debbie was right. This cat IS great! He's so incredibly sweet and charming, with goofy markings and a playful, yet gentle demeanor, I can't find anything I don't like about him.
He reminds me of my cat, Stanley, who died a few years ago. Stanley was, the one. The one cat who really got to me, deeply. He was with me for only five years before he suddenly died. He was a big Maine Coon, too. He was chatty and sweet and easy going, just like this new guy. Last night, while I was sitting with him, I asked my new foster cat if he was Stanley, and he looked up and trilled, then I asked him again and again he trilled and meowed. This time he jumped up and ran towards me, then climbed into my arms, purring.
I'm dead meat.