She’s friendly and playful and, occasionally, a flirt. She’s also a bit of a biter.

Last weekend, I got a kitten.

I’d been thinking about getting a new cat for a while, even went as far as picking up applications at a couple of the local shelters, but I wasn’t really expecting to find the cat for at least another month, possibly more.

But then last weekend, I met this little one, and… well, now I’ve got a kitten. I don’t know her name yet; I’m only 90% certain she’s actually a girl, and I want to hold off until I’m positive. She’s tiny and all black (with a few random white hairs that make her look like she’s going grey) and, now that she’s settling into her new surroundings, she’s an absolute terror.

It’s kind of awesome.

It’s also making me just a little bit sad. I haven’t really had time to get used to the idea of having a new cat. I miss Tasha. I love having a new cat around, but it’s not the same.

Back when I was a kid, I suffered from horrible homesickness. Whenever I had to sleep somewhere that wasn’t home, I’d be miserable. Didn’t matter how much fun I was having, or that I didn’t actually want to leave, I wanted things to be back to normal. That’s sort of how I feel right now.

But it’s getting better. The first couple of days, I wondered if I’d made a mistake, if I should have waited longer before getting a new cat. I’m not worried about that anymore. I’m glad I got her. I’ll be ecstatic when she lets me sleep through the night.

I’ll post pictures when I finally take one that doesn’t suck. (It’s hard to take a good picture of a squirmy black cat, especially without decent ambient light. She squints when the flash goes off.)