And Then There Were Two (Again)

About three weeks ago, our 15-year-old cat passed away. I said no way would I get another cat before packout, but if you are a Cat Person, you know how that goes…

Taz, the cat who is actually a sheepdog, was SO BORED. We played fetch for hours, made the red dot dance, hid treats everywhere so he could hunt them. But he was lonely. He moped around, and even started to get fat.


So, because I am a sucker, I started browsing pet rescue sites. I wanted to get a fostered pet, though, not one from the shelter. Shelter cats have their place, but they can also be kind of nuts. I loved old Huckle, but I have paid my dues in the crazy cat department. I wanted a pet that was fully socialized, and had lived in a “normal” home.

I also wanted to adopt a young adult cat, about the same age as Taz, to match his size and energy level. Kittens are tempting, but someone else is more likely to adopt them. Adult cats are harder to re-home: in my mind that is more reason to adopt them!

Did you bring me a friend yet?
Did you bring me a friend yet?

Sadie popped right out at me. She was about Taz’s age and size, and described as playful and friendly, just like him. She was originally from a Harrisonburg, Virginia, and had been sent to NoVA for fostering. And look at her! She could be Taz’ sister! I have a hard time telling them apart without my glasses.

Thing Two.
Pretty girl.

As soon as we got home, Sadie was SO EXCITED to be there. She purred like crazy and explored everywhere. Except, there was this boy cat she was a little worried about. Still, they never actually fought, just circled each and growled a bit.

Is she done hissing yet?
Is she done hissing yet?

Taz could not understand why she didn’t want to play. He hid in his paper bag for a while to suss out the situation.


The first night was kind of long. Sadie wanted to sleep with us—or just zing around the room all night and jump on our heads, we really couldn’t tell. We were wiped out the next morning. Even Taz looked tired.

The second day was spent mostly like this. They were clearly discussing terms.

Meow. Grr. Meep.

That night, Taz established that he would be the one sleeping on the bed. I woke up twice during the night, and each time, he was sitting quietly by my feet looking at her on the floor. I am pretty sure he was telling her that we do NOT wake up the humans until the sun is up. And we definitely don’t jump on their heads, because we get kicked out of the bedroom. So SIT, girl.

By the third day, Taz was working really hard to get her to play. He tried everything, showing her how to play jungle in the vertical blinds, and even turning on the laser tower for her (his best trick).

Please play with me?
Please play with me?
I won't bite!
I won’t bite!

By that night, they were united in pursuit of the Red Dot.

It's so beautiful...
It’s so beautiful…

Finally, today, they are playing tag, tearing up and down the long apartment hallway and generally wreaking havoc with only the occasional hiss. In fact, I just broke up a joint exploration of the kitchen counter, hmmm…

Taz is so happy, and in truth, Sadie is a much better companion for him than Huckle ever was. Totally worth the extra trouble of taking a second cat to Warsaw!


  1. They sound like quite a pair! My brother and I look a lot alike, too (even though we’re not technically related). I’m glad they get on so well!


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