Page 218 of Back in the Saddle

I did.

“We’ll take him.”

* * *

I snappeda photo of El Generalissimo (I renamed him, for obvious reasons, and I was calling him Henny for short), who was lying on my chest, kitty nose turned in the air, eyes closed, purring.

I then sent it to Jeff with the text,Meet El Generalissimo, Henny for short. My first child.

It didn’t take long before Jeff returned,YOU GOT A CAT WHILE I’M STUCK IN A SAFE HOUSE!?

Yes, it was in shouty caps.

Told you we’d both always wanted a pet.

The world keeps turning, my brother. I replied.

He looks bored. When I get home, he’s coming over to Uncle Jeff’s to play.

He’s ten. Eric bought him 5,921 cat toys. He just sits there and follows them with his eyes as we jiggle them around. Then when I sit down, he crawls in my lap. He’s a lover not a player.

We’ll see.

Yes, we would.

El Generalissimo yawned, I clicked a quick shot and sent it to Jeff.

My baby has excellent teeth, I captioned.

He looks like he’s roaring.

I checked.

It was true.

I also decided to print that picture and frame it, since it was awesome.

He wasn’t. He was yawning, I told Jeff.

That’s because you’re boring.

I chuckled.

I also sent a middle finger emoji to my brother.

Eric came from cooking in the kitchen (we were having chicken tacos, the maiden voyage of my Crock-Pot) to stretch out on the other angle of my couch, his head close to my head, reaching to scratch between Henny’s ears.

“Not sure all cats adapt to a place as quickly as this guy has,” he murmured.

Henny had to sit with me in the car while Eric did an emergency pass through a PetSmart to stock us up on supplies. When we got him home, there had been some sniffing. We showed him his box when we got it set up. His food when we got that set up.

After that, he just jumped up on the couch, curled up on one of my throws, and fell asleep.

That said, he’d been at the rescue for eighteen months, so, I figured he knew home when he smelled it.

“Jeff’s jealous,” I told him.

“He can get his own cat.”

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