I’m currently on the hunt for a second cat to keep Moose and me company. There’s an amazing organization here in Atlanta called FurKids that’s a network of no-kill shelters and foster homes. They take excellent care of every cat in their possession—young and old, healthy and sick—until he’s adopted, however long it takes. I went to their main shelter two weeks ago and spent 3 1/2 hours wandering from room to room, playing with all of the dozens and dozens of cats. (I spent over an hour in the kitten room alone, because time ceases to exist when you are sitting cross-legged on the floor, covered in purring kittens.)
It’s a decision I’m bound to agonize over for a little longer but I hope to bring someone home next weekend. I wish I could adopt all of them. Deep down I’m just a crazy cat lady trapped in a gay man’s body.






