But the Mick's untamed cousins carry disease, and so it was off to the local general store for mouse traps we went. It takes effort to search out the old fashioned spring and snap wooden types. Now we're offered $5 versions of the better-built mousetrap, which happen to be elaborately gated single-use plastic affairs shaped like an igloo doghouse.
And so came the cat -- or rather, the kitten, a female part-Siamese 12-week-old pink-collared Daschund-reject. A friend of one of my wife's co-workers apparently bought our nameless kitten as a companion for her long-haired miniature Daschund, who promptly and relentlessly attempted to assassinate his new feline roommate. The kitten needed a new home. My wife was seduced.
Nameless (supposedly called Casey by the Daschund's owner) is presently living in our bedroom and bathroom, enjoying chicken tidbits and learning the location of the cat box.
Our two Boston terriers have offered a mixed response. Kitty, the older female Boston, generally ignores her. Kitty was raised with a Siamese female and a Siamese-Manx cross. Doc, the younger male, is curious, and somewhat excited, although not so intent on violence as when a dog invades his territory.