Ollie, Ollie Not Exactly Free

Before I tell the story of Oliver, I want to express my gratitude for friends near and far.  I'm grateful that we ran into the Asburys and the Gefroms at the pizza place this evening.  I'm grateful to have had a good old chat with Jacy and Amy.  They are amazing women.  I'm grateful for the spiritual strength of my friend, Amberly.  Thanks for sharing about your new nephew's struggle so that we can all add our prayers to the Banks' and Hunt's.

I'm also grateful for my dear husband.  He spent quite a bit of time getting cat supplies, then three hours at the Humane Society today, all so I could have a cat.

Okay, and now Oliver Hammond, our new housemate.  We wanted a Russian Blue cat, because they are on the list of less-allergenic cats, plus they are cute.  The Humane Society had a five-month-old kitten and a mature cat, so we dropped by on Sunday afternoon with our friends, Mimi and Herb, to check them out.

The San Diego Humane Society building is beautiful, by the way.  I thought it would be more of an industrial building, but it was very airy and clean.

The Russian Blue kitten, Seymour, was in a room with six other kittens.  Seymour was curled under a chair, taking a nap.  Several other kittens were gamboling around the room.  One in particular, Oliver, a cute little black-and-white kitty, was being particularly playful and cute.  Seymour did wake up for a couple of minutes, and man, was he adorable--the perfect Russian Blue.  He seemed to be very skittish, though.

This morning, Rowdy and I decided that he would go to the Humane Society during the day and check Seymour out one-on-one.  If everything went well, we'd get him.  We even thought of an awesome name for him, Oslo Dahlstromovich Briccovski.

Unfortunately, Seymour blew his audition.  He didn't want to be petted.  He was much more interested in trying to nurse on the other kittens than play.  It was just a disaster, really.  If we wanted a cat that just curled up under a chair, we would  buy a stuffed cat.

I was able to leave work a little early and meet up with Rowdy and the cats.  Oliver won me over, even though he makes me sniffle and wheeze.  A $125 payment to the San Diego Humane Society, as well a a good chunk of money spent at Petco, and Oliver was ours.

He is getting acclimated to our house in our upstairs bathroom for the next couple of days.  We're trying to get him to bond primarily with me, so I brought him home in my car, introduced him to the bathroom and have been in to play with him.  He has let me pet him quite a bit, but he's not ready to let me pick him up.  He only cried for a few seconds after I shut the door.

We thought of calling him Oslo, but it doesn't fit him.  So he's Oliver Hammond, after Richard Hammond of TopGear and the little car he named Oliver.  Too bad, though, because Oslo Dahlstromovich Briccovski is a pretty dope name.