Or Barbie if you wish, but I think I reject that. She’s not a Barbie. There are so many better options; Barbecue and Barbra Streisand being personal favorites.
If you follow me on basically ANY form of social media (Snapchat followers got the brunt of it this past weekend,) you’ve probably learned by now that we rescued a 1 year old kitty named Barb (yes, we’re keeping her name) from the shelter on Saturday and we couldn’t be more excited! We’ve both already determined that while we’d be significantly more tired, a baby would probably be easier than introducing a cat to a new house. She flip flops between being incredibly mischievous and “omg wait I’ve actually suddenly decided that thing is terrifying,” but I suppose that’s to be expected.
Barb was 4 months pregnant when she was found outside and brought to the shelter on Halloween of 2015, so obviously we’re making up for her not so great start to life by spoiling the crap out of her! 🙂 So many toys, nose boops, probably too many treats, and as many pets as she can handle.
She’s scared of the TV (but slowly coming around with help from catnip and treats,) is really interested in going basically anywhere we don’t want her to go (our bedroom and the basement,) and pretty much flat out refuses to wear her super cute “Jedi in Training” collar, which she manages to chew off within 1 minute of us putting it on, without fail. She’s not a biter, and basically only takes her claws out to play with toys or knead a rug….though she did stick 3 claws directly into my underboob on Sunday. Joe said I made a very unique sound when it happened. It hurt.
Anyway, she’s also recently discovered she can jump up onto the credenza (with some vintage German bar-ware, and a precariously stacked set of Uncle Goose blocks,) and that if she reaches her paw in just right, she can touch Poppy. Apparently Poppy’s spikes aren’t particularly threatening. We got a spray bottle at Target last night to try to avoid such mishaps.
When we aren’t home, she has full run of the spare room…we feel bad sectioning her off for now, but she gets lots of lovin’ when we’re around, and she has everything she needs – including a window looking right out at a bird feeder. Pretty good (temporary) set-up, I’d say.
Since I began writing this post (Monday afternoon) she’s gotten more and more comfortable with everything…the TV isn’t quite as scary anymore, and her feline tendencies are revealing themselves – poor BB-8 on a stick has already seen better days. We’ll probably fully kitty-proof the rest of our house by this weekend (see ya in a while, fancy German barware) – I think she’s begun going a little stir-crazy in the spare room/needs more space!