I have a cat in my lap

I really need to leave now if I want to get to work on time. But I have a cat in my lap. And she's purring.

And if I leave, I have to move her.

Decisions, decisions.

I'm in trouble

There's another stray cat hanging out by my apartment. This one's a beautiful grey spotted tabby, looks to be about 9 months old. I've been feeding him. I just know I'm going to end up bringing him in . .

I really need to find a home for Áine. Perhaps I should just give up and take her into the no-kill shelter in Ascension Parish (Baton Rouge's shelter isn't no-kill). She's a pure-bred Siamese, someone will take her in.

I tend to rely strongly on intuition when it comes to things like this. Although I was more than happy to take care of Áine when she had nowhere else to go, and she gets along fine with the other cats, it's never quite felt like she fit in. Like she wasn't meant to be here permanently. This new stray -- I've seen strays around before, and I've fed them before, but this is the first one other than Fionn that I've felt really called to try and bring in. It might be because he's still young (at least I think he's a he). But I've learned to pay attention to these types of feelings.

So . . . I will step up the search for a home for Áine. And I will see about coaxing the new one home.