So Mojo's been remiss regarding her blog. Because life has become quite busy, lately. First because we spent a week or so vacationing up in Maine, where poor Rosie was subjected to the cruelty of sea water for the first time. And then we came back to find the house--sans feline since Ratty's demise--a little too mouse-ridden for even Mojo's decidedly laid-back taste.
So Mojo started the Serious Campaign for a New Cat. Which wasn't all that hard, mind you, since the Favorite Husband, despite his insistence that he is indeed a macho cat-disliker, privately and secretly LIKES CATS, as indeed he (like Mojo) pretty much likes anything that doesn't try to actively draw blood from him. So he was okay with the idea of a cat, so long as Mojo got one who was "exactly like Ratty". Minus the yowling, of course, although the Favorite Husband has remarked more than once about how he misses the yowling.
And Rosie, for her vote, desperately wanted a cat. It would give her something new to chew on. Rosie LOVES cats, but in true cat-bewildering fashion she loves them and attempts to play dog games with them. Like "duck down suddenly and attempt to break your opponent's leg". She would attempt to play this game with Ratty, who didn't have a clue what the game entailed. She would suddenly duck down, lunge forward and grab one of the cat's forepaws. (Very gently.) And hold it. And Ratty, who was a very laid back cat who liked the dog right back, would stand there with his held paw up above his head in the dog's Jaws-o-Death and patiently await the release of his appendage. Sometimes they would stand there for a good five minutes, awaiting some resolution to this, uh, "game".