So, I have two cats (well, now three, but I'll get to that...) named Owen and Henry. They have a strong bromance, like on the same level of Shepard and Garrus of Mass Effect.
Look at that
hand paw holding. Owen is the black-and-white one and Henry is the grey one.
They also practice synchronized sleeping.
And they even wait for each other to finish eating.
Then, last Monday, my boss and his fiancee found this little guy under a car at their apartment, covered in oil and dirt. They have a one cat limit at their place and he was about to be taken to the local shelter until I said I would take him in. I mean, my boss brought the little guy into the office! I couldn't get any work done with a cute kitten in the immediate area.
He has a small respitiary infection and his eyes are a bit gunky but he is on medication and already quite playful and independent at five weeks old. And yes, I DID name him after Rigby from Regular Show!
After we just got back from the vet! Watching some Adventure Time.
He loves looking at himself in the mirror.
It's nice having a little kitten to take care of again, especially after having a rough year of losing my older cat. Carmen, my best friend of eighteen years, had a large tumor and the vet told me there was a 98% chance he would die during the surgery. I had to make the immensely hard decision to put him down. He was my first ever pet cat when I was about six years old, cementing a life of Cat Ladydom.
It was very hard letting go of Carmen but I'm grateful to provide a forever home to Owen, Henry, and now little Rigby. I know Carmen would approve (and clean the heck out of Rigby!).