Cat parent.

My friend Jennifer posted a picture of a 10 year old male tabby from the Brightside Shelter. On an impulse, I called them up and said, "I want him."

The decision was impulsive, like most major decisions in my life, because if I have the time to think about it, I almost always talk myself out of it. I could tell Linda wasn't sure, but she went along with it. She's still mourning Panga.

Jasper has a very different personality. 

Jasper is the friendliest, most talkative cat we've ever had. He's a solid 14 pound chunk of muscle. He strides around the house, mumbling meows. He loves laps, petting, and scratches--when it's his idea. Then he turns off and nothing you do gets a response out of him. He doesn't like being picked up, strangely enough. He always likes to be in a room with one of his humans.

He's also the first male cat we've had. He wants to spray, his tail quivering, but thankfully nothing comes out--or our entire house would have been hosed. Lucky, that. 

I have to resist my impulse to tease. I'm never going to be able to turn him upside down and blow raspberries on his belly.

This morning he finally used the cat box, which was my last worry about him. We weren't sure if he was an indoor or an outdoor cat, but it's pretty clear from his mournful looks out the door and windows that he's accustomed to going outside. Unfortunately, his first two days here we've had 10 inches of snow.

I think it's slowly sinking in to Jasper that this is his new forever home. He's an active cat--we're going to have to go get some cat toys. (Panga never responded to cat toys.)

We're all going to have to get used to each other. But we're off to a good start.