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My sister and her family got a kitten last summer that they were totally nuts about. They named the kitten Chai, like the tea, and that little ball of fur was all they ever talked about. Oh, did my sister love that cat.
But then, six months after they got Chai, something dreadful happened. Poor little Chai was eaten by a bobcat. Chai loved to go outdoors and 'hunt,' but the poor little thing became the hunted and, unfortunately, became a bobcat snack. Suffice it to say that my sister and her family were horrified by what happened, especially my sister. She cried for weeks and thought about getting another cat, but she knew it would have to be an indoor cat and felt bad about the idea of keeping a cat locked up inside, so she didn't get another kitty. That and she told me that, if she got another cat, she'd just keep comparing it to Chai and she knew the new cat just wouldn't measure up.
But then my sister kept talking about the prospect of getting another cat and spent hours online surfing the local humane society web site, looking at all the kitties up for adoption. She'd email me and tell me about the various cats she saw but, when I'd email her back and tell her that it really was ok for her to get a new kitten, she'd back out of it. It's mean to keep cats indoors, no cat could ever replace Chai, the cat might scratch the furniture, and her reasons went on and on. Which made me wonder why the heck she was spending so much time surfing the humane society web site, it just made her all the more sad, but everyone has their own way of dealing with difficult situations and apparently my sister's way is to torture herself. Which would also explain why she still spends time with our parents.
But, every once in awhile, life has a funny way of actually working out right. This summer, Brenda's (my brother-in-law's sister) cat had kittens, three cute little balls of grey fur, which left Brenda wondering what the heck she was going to do with more cats. Hmm, I wonder. Yeah, like there was any question there. My sister jumped at the chance to have one of the kittens, the only question was which kitten would they choose and what would they name it.
 So, my sister and her family drove to Idaho this week to visit my brother-in-law's family and pick up their new kitten. I couldn't wait to hear about the new kitty and find out what they named it, and was happy when my sister emailed me this photo. "How cute! Which kitten is yours?" I asked her. To which she replied, "all three!" It seems they couldn't bring themselves to choose just one kitten, so they got all three. And, probably needless to say, my sister is nuts about all of them.
Oskar, Ella, and Toots are the new kitties' names and now I want to go right back down to Carson City to see them because I'm wild with kitten envy. I've been telling Ross for quite some time that we need another cat, but he always says that three cats would be too much. But now, thanks to my sister, he's going to have a much harder time arguing that. I mean, you're always supposed to keep things even and fair between siblings, right? So, if my sister has three cats, then so should I!
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