In The Garden With Callie

Finally!  The last day of August.

I am SO looking forward to putting this Summer behind us.  It wasn't like it was all that bad just that it was such a bust.  I really missed eating my green beans and summer squash. 

I wandered out to the garden yesterday to cut some flowers when I hear "meow, meow, meow..." in rapid succession. 

Here she comes.  "I think I'll call her Callie, short for calico."  SM announced to me this past week as I walked out the door to go to work.  "Sounds nice." I told him.

It'll take a while for the name to stick.  In my head (and when I write) she's still the "Freakin Cat" but out loud I end up calling her "Ki", or "Little Wee".  Probably a hold over from 14 years with our old cat Kiki.

Anyway, I'm in the garden cutting flowers and "Sweet Thing" hot-foots it over to me yelling the whole time.  I pick her up and move her over to my side of the garden fence and start snipping.

She's only the second cat I've been around and as I'm moving around the flower bed cutting she starts twining herself around my ankles.  Once I get a flower or two in the jar, she's distracted and starts checking things out.

I took her to the Vet this past Monday for a health check.  Turns out she's already been spayed.  They showed me a little green "tattoo" that they inject into the skin on her belly to let folks know she's been fixed. 

She's laying there all floppy while the Vet gives her the once over.  "This is a great cat.  You hit the jackpot with this one.  I wonder..."  He gets a look on his face, picks up a hand held gizmo flips the cat and passes it over her.  "This cats chipped!  Nobody microchips cats!" He was actually excited.  So was I for a few minutes.  Visions of leaving cat-less danced in my head.

He got on the phone with the national microchiped registery people.  Turns out that while she might be chipped, she's not registered.  He says he saw a study where 60% of the folks who actually chip their pets never register them because of the $45 fee they want for the paperwork.  (I've never chipped either.)  He gave me the number (Ha...as if...freakin cat) and proceeded with the required round of shot's, roto-rooter and blood work for HIV and leukemia. 

$180 later, I'm the mother of a bouncing baby cat.  8lbs 8oz.  Estimated age?  7 months. 

SM got the willies when I told him that.  "That's 7 months to the day that Kiki died.  You don't think..." SM said looking at the cat.

"No, I don't."  I told him.

Although I do find it odd that out of all the homes around here, she's latched onto us.

Watch out lizard...She's coming for you next!