The thing is, I used to be a dog person. Or, I thought I was. I mean, I like all animals, but thought I preferred dogs to cats, so didn’t think much of getting a cat until, as I said not long ago, my lifestyle got all crazy and it made more sense to have one if I was going to have a pet. It all started so innocently, with Marley. He and I, on the rooftops of Amsterdam together. Marley with his catgrass and me with my chilled rosé. We didn’t need anyone else. We were living a life of freedom .

And then my sister found Gus and his two brothers on the street, and asked if I would like to take Gus. She was going to keep his two brothers, but she thought three cats was too many, and I AGREED, and said sure, I’ll take the little guy (and he was, back then, little). I flew him to Switzerland and there we lived, the three of us (um, not counting Mr. NonCommittal) spending mornings out on the balcony overlooking Mt. Pilatus. Me with my coffee and they with the dusting of snow on the ledge. And lo, I thought, this cat thing is not so bad, and two seems to be a pretty good number.

We all moved to Boston and the two of them saw me through that bad breakup and I kind of think that after Annie, Dab, and Terra, they were the best friends I had that year.

Well, and then we all know what happened that magical and strange Christmas not so long ago, when David and I met for a drink after many years and our knees touched at the bar and on some cellular level we knew our lives were from that moment on to be together, or else we’d at least give it our best shot. When I told him he had to move to Boston for it to work, he agreed and then told me about his cat Tugboat. I had only a moment of hesitation, imagining the two of us and three cats in my one bedroom apartment – but there was no way to say no; we had come this far. And so Tugboat made three. Which was perhaps a bit uneasy for the first few months but then Gus fell in love with her and Marley ruled them both with an iron paw and lo, we were a family.

I knew when Marley was put down that if we were going to get a replacement cat, I’d rather it be sooner than later, and David agreed. We searched for polydactyl kittens and found one on line and made an appointment to meet him.

But this little dude wandered up.

He just adopted us from the very beginning. He loves, he cuddles. He pranced into the house and assumed alpha cat status. I think he might partially be Marley come back to me. Gus and Tugboat are terrified of him.

And then we had our appointment with my long desired toe kitty. The woman ended up just kind of dropping him off. I sort of thought we only had an appointment to meet him, and we’d decide, but she was sort of out there, and I didn’t argue.

So now we have four cats. Even I feel it is too many, but I’m not sure what to do about it. I love the new one too. He has opposable thumbs! And he and the orange one are hilarious playing together. But the orange one is just too funny to give up either.

Sigh. I do not know how this happened. David just gives me a bemused look and says it is ok; four is fine. I supposed he is right. Four it is.