That's right, I lied.

Cayman didn't REALLY follow me home. (But you knew that, right?) A couple of days ago I was innocently purchasing a bag of cat food at our vet clinic when I noticed five little kittens behind the counter. The clinic accepts "rescued" cats, checks them over and then gives them away to good homes. I had a feeling that Scott's reluctance to bring home a new kitten would melt away as soon as he saw this brood. I ran to the car and dragged Scott into the clinic. After about twenty minutes of handling the kittens, Scott made his choice. Basically, Cayman came free with a bag of cat food.

Here's the little bugger now, doing a very poor job of making friends with Molly:

Undeterred by several open-pawed swats to the face, Cayman tried the same approach with Trooper:

And while I'm on the topic of pets (when am I not?), I thought I would share with you a couple of images of Max, the pug who has been wreaking havoc on our floors and our olfactory organs:

Last but not least, here is a photo of Max sleeping on the sofa with his leg down the back of my jeans.

Now that's what I call a hind leg.