Our New Roommate

We have a new roommate. He eats a lot, poohs in a box, and likes to bite people. Doesn't he sound pleasant?

His name is Vincent the kitty. He was found by Nicole Santamaria at the bottom of our apartment building stairs. She gave him a few baths to get rid of the fleas, fed him a lot of food, and made him a happy little cat.

Nicole recently went back to the US (we miss you, Nicole!) and Katrina and I were first on the kitty adoption list.

Originally Vincent was called "Disco." Nicole named him that because she found him next to the building elevator, the inside of which is wall-to-wall mirrors. Indeed, it is the closest we will ever get in Bangladesh to a dancing palace). I didn't like that name and I saw that his eyes were blue--so I wanted to call him "Frank". (ala Sinatra). Then Zelda (nine years old) said she thought that was dumb ("...and who is Frank Sinatra anyways?"). She said the cat should be called "Vincent Van Playful." So, you can see how this has all come about.

While Vincent may be having an identity crisis, he's loving the food and attention. And we, in turn, are grateful to have a spunky stress reliever.