The newest member of our family.

I kind of wanted to start this post "Dear Jen and Shawn, thanks for the cat". You see, my friend Jen, my wonderful and talented friend Jen with whom I used to share an office (an exercise that can't help but bring people together) and her lovely husband Shawn have moved to Vancouver. That's a big move, clear across the country, and their 15 year old cat Dickens decided she wanted to stay in Toronto, so naturally she's come to live with us. Miss Tracey Nolan, The Robeau (aka The Cat Whisperer), Pickles and Bernie. This all happened a little over a month ago, about a week before we left for our trip to New Orleans. We were worried that she'd have a hard time adapting to life here at Chez Nolan/Clayton for many reasons, the least of which was the fact that she has never lived with another cat and now she was moving in with Pickles, a girl brimming with playful love (the sheer force of which could kill a weaker creature) and Bernie, who is routinely mistaken for a chow dog or a small bear (she's BIG). Dickens has lived a life of solitude, being doted upon by her people. She is considerably smaller than both our cats and top it off, she has no claws. It could have been a recipe for disaster. After the initial fear and growling (and that time Bernie pooped her pants in fear), the purchase of a baby gate (sad) to keep her sequestered downstairs and The Robeau spending that first night in the basement with her (sweet) things normalized pretty quickly. By the time we left for New Orleans she was walking around like she owned the joint. Dont' tell our landlord.

The things she does that the other cats don't never ceases to amaze me. Dickens paces back and forth for hours at a time. Maybe that's how she stays so petite? Dickens can jump up on the countertop! Stop that Dickens! Dickens lets us pick her up under our arms like Hader and Samberg do in that Laser Cats sketch. Dickens is friendly when guests come over. She socializes! Dickens actually plays with Pickles. Finally somebody to play with Pickles. They chase each other around and it sounds like a herd of elephants. Dickens, for some reason, hates Bernie and routinely blocks her entry to and from the litter box and the food and water dishes with such callous nonchalantness that you'd think she got her name not because she's a "little dickens" but, you know, for that other thing. Ahem. Dickens, leave Bernie Boo alone, seriously. Bernie, for the record, appears to be terrified of Dickens and will do anything to avoid her. Must have been something she said.

I'm sure Dickens misses Jen and Shawn, because while she is warm with us she won't sit with us on the couch and cuddle...yet. But she does let us pick her up and for some godforsaken reason she always follows me into the bathroom where she will rub up against my legs and try to hop up on my lap. I'm not gonna ask, Dickens. I'll take what I can get.

I do think she's pretty comfy here though, and I'm so glad she is.


Dear Jen and Shawn, thanks for the cat.