Transference

Isn't that what they call it when you move anger or love or whatver feeling you have from the real target to a surrogate? Well, that's sort of the theory here. I don't think transference is really the right term, but more like filling the void.

We got two new cats. Suzy wanted to wait, but I prevailed. I think the emptiness of the house was actually bothering me more than it was her, and she wasn't really 100% ready to get another kitty, but after an hour or so playing with the cats up for adoption at Petsmart, we brought home a boy and girl, both fixed, to try and help heal the hurt that Bela's passing left us.

She is a 2-year old big fat black medium-hair kitty with a patch of about 12 white hairs just uner her throat. Suzy's decided that she must be Ophelia, because she's a very pretty cat, and Suzy's always liked the name Ophelia. I argued that there isn't a good diminutive of Ophelia, and said that I feared calling the cat Ophelia would create an unhealthy predisposition toward rosemary and lakes. I lost. Ophelia she is.

We haven't renamed the boy yet. He's 8 months old, with long black and white hair. No, I didn't want a longhair after Grizabella, but he's so funny that he won me over. Hamlet is the obvious choice, but he's not morose enough. He may end up being called Guildenstern, because so far he doesn't seem too bright.

So they spent last night wandering around the den getting accustomed to us, and hopefully they will become more affectionate as they get familiar with the surroundings. That's at least what the adoption lady told us, anyway. They were plenty affectionate in the store, so I think they'll be good additions to the family when they get used to us. They'll never replace Bela, but they can fill the void a little.