Since Hershey, two of my kitty's died, within two years of each other. Both lived 13 years of a spoiled life. Scamp died first. He was my first real pet, besides something like a gerbil or hampster. Cocoa was lost for a long time. It took her a couple of months to stop looking for him. Then she got used to the idea of being the "only child". Sometime around the first week of March Aaron's mom called to see if we wanted or knew someone who wanted a kitty. "She is really sweet", she said, but because they already had a bad experience with a stray in the past, she didn't want to upset Nuetie, the cat-king of thier castle. So we drove down there, just 8 miles for our house, and took her home. Aaron has a big black pick-up. This kitty sat on the dashboard the entire way home. We tried to pick her up and hold her or seat her, but "no", she wanted to be on the dash, hence the name Dashboard, or DB, as we like to refer to her. Her? Well that's another story. After several days of "she" this and "she" that, Aaron had her upside down, in his arms, petting her belly. "Baby? Come here and tell me if this is what I think it is." Sure enough, she was a nuetered "he!" It took a long time to naturally call him "him" after the first impression of "her."
In April of this year, a former colleague of mine was trying to find a home for her 5-month old Shepherd/Lab mix. Her family was relocating, and this hyper dog was too much to handle, especially for her young twins. So I called my boyfriend who insisted I bring her home, if not for his friend, then his parents...well...guess who has her now. Her name is Daisy, and although we weren't crazy about the name, it sure fits her. Ever see The Great Gatsby? Hershey loves having someone she can play with. It will be interesting to see, in a year, when Daisy outweighs Hershey, as we expect.