Relationships in Black and White

Despite the urgings of many a friend (and mom - though, I only have one mom), I had to leave little Anderson Chaussette behind in Cargese. Not to worry, he will be cared for - he wore a little white collar (though, without a label) and one night I saw a woman in the neighboring apartment feeding him and a larger but otherwise identical version of him (the mother, I presume?)

I however, am not doing so well. I thought I could handle a little kitty-dating, a little casual kitty hook-up. Mr. Romeo, my balcon chaton, slipping through the window in the dead of night and curling up beside me, disappearing just as quickly in the morning. But, as you have probably guessed, I couldn't help getting my feelings involved, and now I miss him terribly.

Luckily, fate has brought me a older, wiser man to help me get over my little kitty vacation fling. A week after I returned from France my roommate Michelle adopted a 2 year old, as yet unnamed kitty. He is large, muscular, with the blackest of black fur and big green eyes (whatever his official name, I will nick-name him "bear", because that is what he is). Though he usually sleeps with her, during the day he sometimes curls up in my bed, and I can pretend I have my little Anderson back again.

Kitteh in ma bed: Anderson and Bear.

Of course, like all men, big Bear requires some training. He's already developed the habit of jumping on my desk while I try to work. Perhaps a southern accent will discourage him? (Please watch the link, it is hilarious)

However, I will always have a special place in my heart for Anderson, the voleur chaussette.