Conor

Last Sunday, I adopted a cat from the Silicon Valley Humane Society. He is a one year old tabby weighing in at a strong 13 pounds. While this seems huge, he's actually quite lean, just very tall and long. His given name was Raider, but as this seems quite violent and since I am a Patriots fan, I renamed him Conor, in keeping with my family's pattern of giving our pets Irish names.

In the one week that he has been Conor, he has adjusted quite well to apartment life. He's a champ with the litter box, hasn't destroyed anything, loves to play, is fearless when it comes to vet visits and meeting new people, and is very affectionate. The only thing Conor hasn't quite yet warmed up to is Levi, my roommate's beagle. Levi approaches Conor with the enthusiasm of a cheerleader trying to be named most popular, but Conor is not yet a fan of the constant barking and attention. Whenever Levi comes within two feet of Conor, Conor lays down his ears and hisses. There have also been a couple of left hooks thrown, which have caused Levi to sprint away. They will figure out how to get along eventually. For right now, Conor spends most of his time sleeping on the fridge whenever Levi is roaming.

As for my adjustment, I was completely stressed out at the beginning of the week as I worried about Conor settling in with the rhythm of our apartment life. This stress didn't last long, however, and now I remember how easy it is to take care of cats. Conor is an absolute joy to have and I hope everyone will have a chance to meet him at some point.