Last Sunday (oh my God, was it only a week ago today?), the local RSPCA animal rescue shelter had an unplanned visit.
The idea was to look for a dog.
Not just any dog.
The kind of stay-at-home dog that would fit in to a busy working day.
You know the sort.
Whippy The Greyhound.
A dog I could take out in the mornings and wear it out.
Then it would sleep all day.
Then I’d take it out in the evenings and wear it out.
Then it would sleep all day.
And so on.
Anyway, although the RSPCA shelter had quite a few dogs deserving a second home, none of them matched the behavioural criteria.
So we sort of wandered across to the cat house.
Not that kind of cat house, obv.
Felines.
It was traumatic to see so many cats of various size, age, and description who had fallen on unfortunate times.
Eye-wateringly traumatic.
Anyway, not that there was any feline manipulation going on or anything, but Raven and Ripley came home with us yesterday.
Raven spent her first 12 hours in her new home hiding underneath a bed and steadfastly refusing to come out.
Ripley was a little bolder.
I hope these two 12-month old kitties have a happier time here than they have had in their previous existence.