Spent a good part of today picking up this little Rascal. And the rest of the day trying to make him feel at home - in his new home. Of course, he's scoped out a few rooms and found the farthest, darkest, corner under the bed that's too heavy to move . . . and because he's all black, it's only his eyes that catch the light. Even our voices will spook him back to his hidey-hole. He ghosts out every once in a while and will join me on the bed (if I wait patiently) . . but I can't be doing that all day!
This little guy is a sob story, losing his forever owner, being boarded in various vets, then getting adopted by a lady for only a few months before she fell and got a broken arm and other injuries, necessitating his reboarding in vets. So he needs peace and quiet for his recovery now. They think he's about 11 years old, has beautiful golden eyes, and the requisite, funny-sounding meow and bent tail. We agreed to foster him . . but everyone is hoping he stays.