The mullet is gone. Mom finally convinced you it was time to go shorter in the back for a new look, and you went along with it. Maybe that’s because you’re moving out of the baseball phase? I took you to the barber, and your mom couldn’t wait to see you, so she showed up with donuts — as an excuse. She was so excited she actually shrieked when she saw you. There’s nothing quite like a mother’s affection for her boy.
Looks aside, the real change this month has been the arrival of yet another pet: Mango. The marbled black-and-orange cat began showing up around the house a few weeks ago. She (?) may be the most vocal cat in existence — low-pitched, rapid-fire meows. She also doesn’t really want to be petted or held, just heard. Mango looked healthy, so we assumed she’d escaped from a nearby house or was a new outdoor cat. After asking around the neighborhood, we learned she does have a home, but apparently not one she likes to frequent because of an aggressive dog.
You and Eliza started feeding the cat (against my counsel), so now Mango is a permanent fixture on our front porch. We’ve seen her there at all hours of the day and night. Greta once barked at midnight because she heard Mango outside. Our other two cats, Luna and Mona, know she’s on the other side of the front door and stare curiously whenever she meows. Fortunately, none of our actual cats have escaped to try to meet her. I suspect they’d probably get along, but I don’t want to learn that the hard way.
I don’t expect Mango to fully integrate into the family. She’s a perfectly good outdoor cat, and honestly so obnoxiously loud I don’t think we could live with her. Maybe that’s why the neighborhood family keeps her out? We also cannot take on another cat. At this rate we’ll have a dozen by the time you move out — and guess who will still be living with them afterward.
I can’t deny your tremendous love for animals, but I can deny how many we house at once.
Love,
Dad