One year ago today, I met Scout and brought him home with me.
The rescue estimated that he was about four years old and so gave him an estimated birth date in March, based on when they’d rescued him. But because I adopted him just a month later, I decided I might as well celebrate both dates at once. As a five-year-old, Scout is far more relaxed living in the apartment than he was for the first few months that I had him.
He’s decided that he doesn’t mind taking baths (but hates drying off), that mirrors are interesting, that both coffee and bananas smell yucky, that it’s bedtime as soon as his human cuddles under the the duvet in bed, that breakfast is at precisely 6am (…but that it’s fun to try to wake his human up an hour before that), that the food dance does make food tastier, that he can see his human coming home from work if he patiently scouts the sidewalk from the windowsills, and that going to the vet is nothing to worry about because he gets to come home afterwards.
Scout still has a bit of a wild streak in him, but he’s a people-cat and loves spending time with me and meeting other humans. It took us several months to bond after the adoption, but I feel so lucky that he eventually chose me the way that I chose him.
I also feel lucky that, despite all his rambunctious energy, when it’s time for me to sit and write or develop or get my creative juices flowing, Scout is usually quite happy to quiet down and take a nap next to me.
Here’s to another year, my sweet little fluff! ♡