Just call me “sucker”

I vowed that I would not get any more pets.  They are expensive and eventually they die.  Yet my genes mean that I’m a sucker for stranded animals.  I was sitting in my library this afternoon and kept hearing a strange sound over and over.  I went outside to check it out and it was a small cat.  Not quite a kitten, but not fully grown.  He tried to get into the school.  I called the secretary who usually rescues animals and she said she couldn’t take it.  If we reported it to anyone else, they would have called animal control.  I broke down and took it home thinking that if I couldn’t keep it, I could take it to a no kill shelter.  Now I’m sitting here on the couch and the kitty is curled up beside me in a new kitty bed.  I posted it on facebook and Josh immediately replied that we should keep the cat.  He then texted me with his argument that “he should stay on the principle that he’s a cat, and we are the ***** family who always rescues animals.  Plus he’s an adorable little gray tabby!  The last one disappeared, so we keep this one!”  I told him that I might keep him for him until he moves out of his apartment and then he could be responsible for him.  He said he was ok with that.  Of course by then I’ll probably be too attached.  The other animals seem to be handling it ok.  None of them have attacked the kitty.  Lucy, the other cat, just hisses a bit and growled a little.  Mollie just barks her head off and wants to chase him.  Max is indifferent.  The cat is pretty oblivious to the others and doesn’t seem to be bothered by them at all and seems to have made himself at home.  So I think we have a new family member who has yet to have a name other than “kitty.”  Here’s a picture: