Two years ago today I went to an adoption event at the 92nd Street Petco, looking for a little brother for Annabelle. I wanted a cat with white in his coat because I had stepped or tripped over Annabelle in the dark on my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and there he was, this little 3-month old creamsicle of a kitten. I was smitten; Cupid's arrow never pierced a heart with such alacrity.
Four days later, Thatch moved in, and after several rocky months he decided he liked it here. You are my sunshine, Thatch!