Our new cat is named Freya. Her story is the kind of story that might make you angry, so if you don't feel like being annoyed at humankind, skip ahead.
We found her in the neighborhood across the street from our house. She was yowling bloody murder at the back door of a house that had recently been listed for sale. It was night, and there are coyotes here, and we knew the house had been mostly empty for months, so we snagged her and took her home. The next morning, I contacted the realtor on the listing, told him we'd found the cat, and asked if she belonged to the owners of the house, thinking that perhaps the cat had been upset by the packing and escaped.
While we awaited his reply, we did some digging. One of the other neighbors said that the family had gone through a messy divorce, which is why the property had been mostly empty for months. The cat had appeared roughly around the time the house went up for sale, and the neighbor had been feeding her outside. The cat was very sweet and cuddly, and we quickly discovered she was declawed. We had her checked for a microchip (none) and checked all the local Facebook groups & SPCA pages for any missing cat posts (also none).
When the realtor got back to us, he reported that the family said the cat was a stray they had been feeding and had suggested we take her to the SPCA. The cat was left alone, outside, declawed, trying to get back into a very specific house—we deduced that the most likely story is that the family abandoned her when they left. And then they had the gall to tell us to take her to the SPCA, which they could have easily just done themselves.
Long story short, we have a new cat. She's sweet and gentle, loves humans, likes Blueberry, although, is uncertain about the other cats. And given the personalities of the rest of the crew, I don't blame her lol.
Blueberry has been having a grand old time this summer. There is a lake near us with no houses on it, part of a state park, so we have been taking evening trips over to wade in the water and schniff all the schnoffs. He's very popular and gets many hugs from children, meets lots of friend-shaped frendos, and occasionally rolls in something dead. It's close by, so an easy adventure, plus there is nothing quite like an evening stroll along a lakeshore as a way to relax for the whole family.
The cats are a little less pleased, what with Freya's arrival. Buck is very confused about what exactly is going on and spends most of his time glaring suspiciously at empty rooms and hissing at nothing; Wilfred is trying to befriend everyone despite their resistance; and Rowan just wants to be left alone—she spends most of her days outdoors. The good news is that the vet says everyone is adapting as well as can be expected, everyone is healthy, and Rowan is one of the healthiest 18-year-old cats he's ever seen.
