The other day when I was visiting Jonah in Vegas, he said he had a surprise for me but that I might not like it. Later that night he came home and told me to come outside. He was in his truck and sheepishly looked at me, pulled out two kittens, and said, "I couldn't let them go to the pound."
Admittedly, the kittens were very cute. And I am an animal lover. I love animals very much, and they seem to have quite an affinity for me as well. However, we already have two cats, and they are responsibility enough, in my opinion. So I wasn't terribly pleased, especially since Jonah hadn't at least discussed it with me (although, in retrospect, he had tossed some hints about.
The kittens had come from a litter from Jonah's mom's cat. He has tried to get his mom to get that cat fixed, but she hasn't. I think it's irresponsible to not spay and neuter one's cats. It just leaves a lot of orphaned cats that can't be taken care of.
Jonah looked so concerned about the future of these two kitties. However, four cats is just too much for me. One of the kittens was almost all black with some white and a little Charlie Chaplin-esque or Adolph Hitler-esque mustache. He was very cute. The other cat was gray or brownish, as I recall. Also cute. Although I did not necessarily want another cat, the black one was quite unique, and there is also the fact that the two cats Jonah has were his originally, before we married (although one of those cats adores me; the other one pretty much views anybody but Jonah as an unwelcome intruder). Anyway, I told Jonah I was not comfortable adopting two new kitties, but that I would compromise by allowing us to keep one, provided that I could name it.
I jokingly said we should name it "Hitler," not by any desire to offend, but simply because my dark sense of humor likes the juxtaposition of a cute, harmless kitty-cat with the name of one of the most evil dictators in human history. However, my sense of decency wouldn't allow me to actually do so, even if Jonah would go along with it (which I know he wouldn't), so I named him Chaplin instead.
We think he's a boy, and as far as we can tell, he has the parts that would indicate that he is (although they're very small, so we are not sure). If he turns out to be a girl, we will still call him Chaplin, and he'll just have to suffer through life with an identity crisis.
I admit it, he's adorable. He's a little ball of energy and very hyper and likes to jump around. I am amused at his innocence and curiosity. He loves to bite (not in a malicious way, but in a very pure manner. While I did not necessarily want him initially, it's fun to have him around.
The other two cats have been wary of him, but both are slowly becoming acclimated to him, and I'm sure they will enjoy him in time.
Anyway, here's Chaplin! (He would not hold still very well to get a really focused picture; my apologies).