Rollercoaster week.

Wow, what a week. My bff moved back in a couple of weeks ago, and brought her cat (which she had before when she lived with us) and her daughter's cat (daughter couldn't take care of her anymore). The daughter's cat, Hekate, we adopted.

I took her to the vet on Monday and left her to be spayed on Tuesday. No big deal, healthy 7-month-old cat, routine operation.

While I was in Tampa on Tuesday with my mother at a doctor's appointment for my grandfather, I received a call from my vet. She was in tears and explained Hekate died in post-op. They tried to revive her and couldn't.

Wow.

I was stunned. I'd gone from enjoying having a cat I could actually let have the run of my house (unlike our old cat who had...issues with his litter pan) to...not. I'd fallen in love with her in the short time she'd been with us.

When hubby got home that night he hugged me and told me to go to the shelter and adopt another one. So bff and I went over yesterday and...

Well, after having to haggle with the first adoption counselor (who was insisting I bring all FOUR of my dogs in to the shelter and I told him under no circumstances was THAT happening) and getting a supervisor involved who obviously chose to use reason and common sense over "da rulz" we brought home Sapphire.

She's a gorgeous Siamese mix, she looks a lot like a tabby but she's got the Siamese mocha coloration. She's VERY mellow and I could tell from her reactions she was miserable at the shelter. Not spooky at all, 7 years old, and just sat there and let my four dogs sniff her all over without trying to bolt or anything. LOL

Now comes the journey of renaming her. I'm leaning toward Ganesha or Brigid, but not sure yet.