I HAVE a little story to share - a cautionary tale, if you will.
It started about 12 months ago when I took it into my head that I needed a cat to keep me company.
So I went to a Fraser Coast animal refuge with the intention of buying an adult black cat that was desexed. I didn't care if it was male or female.
When I got there I saw lots of black cats, all gorgeous - I had my choice.
My eyes lit upon a cat called Black Tom. I decided he was the one and got the cat carrier ready.
As I waited for him to be pulled out of his cage, the lady at the refuge regaled me with the story of how Black Tom (soon to be rechristened Tommy) had been brought in with another cat he had grown up with because their owner was moving.
The other cat was housed in a cage near Tom's, and his name was Ginger Ninja.
I thought about how sad that was, and took Tom home.
Now I don't know if I imagined this or not (actually I do - I imagined it), but when I brought Tom home, I felt that he seemed sad and I was positive he was missing his friend.
So I rang the refuge and asked if the Ginger Ninja (soon to be renamed Nelson) was still available.
Lo and behold, he was.
The next day Nelson got picked up in the cat carrier and brought home to what I was sure would be an ecstatic reunion.
Instead, the two hissed and yowled at each other and Tom had an expression on his face that clearly said, "What the hell are you doing here?!"
So the moral of this story? If you go for one cat, stick with one cat.
Not that I would ever part with either, of course.
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