We found out that our new kitty is officially a boy, in good health and probably around one or two years old. We let Parker pick a name for him (Fin named Tammie) and she chose Muta (pronounced Moo-tah) after a cat in one of her favorite movies. Its already been shortened to Moo or Moo-Moo. We are still totally in love with him and the only "naughty" thing he's done is get into the pantry and eat all of Tammie's treats and, inexplicably, the hot dog buns. I can't get mad at him though, as I'm sure his few months out on the street have ingrained in him a "eat whenever you get the chance" mentality. He sleeps on Fin's bed every night and follows us from room to room during the day, curling up and sleeping next to whatever we're doing. He's gotten bolder with the kids, occasionally hiding behind doors and pouncing on them as they round the corner, to their utter and complete delight. I forgot how much I love having a cat and still just can't understand how someone could just throw him away. But their negligence is our gain, so in the end I think things worked out for little Moo.
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