I went to a movie and lunch with a friend and came home with a kitten about five weeks old, just like Mojo when he first came to me. Jenni had rescued the little one in her backyard and cared for him/her for a week amid her four cats.
I pondered adopting the new one during the movie and by lunchtime I had decided. It was useless putting off another adoption in hopes of Mojo’s return. After 22 days, that prospect was growing dimmer by the minute. And even if he did come home the new one and the original one would have to get along. My 12-year-old Loaner is quite equable with this new presence; probably won’t be long before she starts licking his/her face.
Bijou is all black, has strong lungs while having a bath, and weighs no more than five ounces. He/she laps milk and eats soft and dry food with a will. So much life in such a little speck of fur. We are going to the vet for a checkup tomorrow.
The photo of Mojo at three months here is hurtful for me to view, but here is that rascal anyhow.