So, it finally happened.
Our sweet little guys have gone to a new home.
We got them as kitties back in March of 2007, back when Brendan was in a deep cat phase. Roger wasn't a "cat person," and I had never been around cats in my life. But they were free. We figured we'd try it out and see what happened. After a week, I was converted. I didn't have to let them out to go potty. They didn't bark. I didn't have to keep an eye on the kids around them, as they were perfectly capable of running and hiding from harms way (i.e Hayden). The litter has a bit of a yuck factor, but I didn't particularly care for scooping dog poop either. But lately the litter box is more often than not forgotten, which is a much bigger deal when it's in the kitchen rather than out in the garage. I had began threatening that the cats would be given away if some certain people in our house (I won't be specific, but Sierra and Jordan come to mind) didn't step up and start taking care of the animals like they had sworn to do. And then they began tearing up the leather chairs. MY leather chairs. My black leather club chairs that we looked and looked for and have enjoyed for years. My chairs that I will now have to slipcover because they are beyond repair. That's when the love affair was over. We thought that we would just get them declawed, but at an estimate of $400, financially it just didn't make any sense. I think Roger thought all the drama on my part was a bluff, since he called me from work to say,"I see that you listed the cats on Craigslist? I didn't realize that you were serious." Well, I was. And then I wasn't. And then I wasn't sure. But when I asked Jordan to take out the litter deposits a few mornings ago and he groaned, "I thought we were getting rid of the cats!" that was it. So last night they went home with Pam, a divorced woman whose husband got her two cats, and felt like these two were the answer to her prayers. Nope, I quite convinced that she was the answer to ours.