Enter Smoke!

I guess I'd better start with the end--of Sister History Geek Week. After we satisfied our inner-12-year-old-girls in Missouri and Alabama, Tricia stayed on in Knoxville and made use of the guest accommodations here in the Tiny Flat. We did a bit of shopping while she was here, the most important of which was an outing to Lowe's where I got a fantastic deal on a washer and dryer. No more toting that heavy laundry basket to the apartment complex laundry room!!  We bought other odds and ends for the house, including a smart TV for Mad when she comes back here for a visit in August. 

Tricia and I also enjoyed the pictures and texts from Joe-Man as he travels around Europe to celebrate his graduation (like the Grand Tour of yore).  And, of course, I took her to my favorite History Geek hangout--Calhoun's on the River. 

And no trip across country is complete without a visit to Cracker Barrel....

After Tricia took off to catch her flight home to California, it was a little lonely back in the Tiny Flat. After all, I'd just spent six weeks surrounded by other humans. I needed to recover with some good ol' fashioned cave time. 

Yeah, that lasted for less than a week. Then it was time to give myself a little gift, something I'd wanted for almost a year. A roommate. 

My first stop on this quest for companionship was just down Kingston Pike, the Humane Society of the Tennessee Valley. The parking lot was nearly full, but I sort of made my own spot and went inside. Very nice fellows directed me to where the cats were, and then a distracted teenage girl helped me select a beautiful little girl by the name of Tiana (you can bet no cat of mine will ever be saddled with such a name). I reckoned she'd have to be spayed before I could take her home, although I'd brought my cat carrier in the car just in case. Yes, I'd already bought everything for a dainty little girl kitten, right down to pink carrier and collar. 

After handing me quite an extensive application form, the teenager wandered over to where a couple was adopting two kittens. I watched as she--and the only two other employees in the cat adoption area--dropped from the designation "distracted" to "moronic."  All three of the nitwit females surrounded the kitties going home with the couple, snapping selfies and offering kisses and hugs to the cats. It was over 10 minutes before the couple could get out of there with their adopted pets and the girls could stand around tittering about them. The lead nitwit than deigned to accept my application and told me she'd "get around to it" when she could. I had to pass a background check before I could adopt a cat, of course. At that point, I was dismissed. 

Well, in the words of the great Pauline, "fuck that noise."  This was on a Friday, so on Saturday I ventured further afield to the local animal shelter. Here, actual adults were employed. I hemmed and hawed and looked over the kittens up for adoption, finally deciding to see if a little charmer named Rosemary might be "the one."  Rosemary and I spent about 15 minutes getting to know one another in a little separate room. Before I knew it, those gorgeous Bette-Davis-blue-eyes had ensnarled me. Rosemary was "the one."

So, I filled out an application and paid the fee. There was no home visit required or a call to my complex to make sure I could have a cat (yes, I'd already made that arrangement). I just needed to wait a few days for Rosemary to be spayed, then I could take her home. 

I left the shelter absolutely overjoyed. And when the Humane Society called on Monday (a haughty teenage boy this time) to tell me I'd been deemed worthy, I told him that I'd already adopted a cat so no thanks to Tiana (who I hope finds a happy home). 

Tuesday afternoon was when I could expect to bring my new baby home from the shelter. The  phone rang that morning. Again, a teenage girl, one who sounded a little frightened this time. 

-  Mrs. Herbon?

-  Yes?

-  This is (name forgotten) from the Young-Williams Animal Shelter. 

-  Hi. Is Rosemary OK?

-  Well....yes....but we found out something during the initial exam. 

-  What's that?

-  Rosemary is a male. We mis-identified her as a female. 

The girl sounded terrified. I, in that first second of surprise, thought "my cat is transgender." This caused an involuntary fit of laughter on my part. It was so 2016!  The young lady paused and then laughed hesitantly. 

-  I guess it is sort of funny. Do you still want the cat?

Note:  Here I must fast-forward in time to when I regaled Heidi with this tale. As I told Heidi what the girl had said, Heidi exclaimed, "You are going to take him, right?  Don't judge him, Mom."  Again, I was laughing. I'm sending "his" cute little pink collar with the bow on it to Heidi for Panda Face--who is all girl. 

Of course I took him. I decided to name him Smoke Stewart Dias Herbon. I took his cute pink carrier to the shelter that afternoon to pick him up. An older lady, probably a volunteer, brought him out to me in the lobby. Unfortunately, she was still under the impression that Smoke was a Rosemary. She wished Rosemary and I good luck in our new relationship. 

With the false sexual identity and the pink carrier, I worried that Smoke might be a little gender-confused. He has, however, taken it all in stride like the 21st century confident male he is. Auntie Chantalle came to have dinner with us on Smoke's first night home, and he immediately loved her. Thank goodness, because, unbeknownst to Auntie Chantalle, she's his "emergency contact" at his vet and the shelter. 

Smoke is turning out to be a great roommate, although he did walk on the cable remote and nearly bought a pay-per-view movie. He's a total cuddler, and he's equally at home in an empty Amazon box or chasing one of his myriad toys (and one hair tie) around the wood floor. 

I've found me a wonderful roommate. 

Knighty-Knight from Knoxville.