As Rick and I watched our new kitteh skittering crazily across the floor, Rick noted that, when he runs, he looks exactly like a possum... and that his unusual fur only heightens the effect. Once spoken, words can never be unsaid, and once a visual idea takes hold, no amount of well-meant naming can withstand. Sometimes the first name we pick out just doesn't hold a candle to the name they give to themselves.
So he is no longer Ash. He is Possum.
At this precise moment, Possum is curled up next to Bijou on the couch, and they both are snoozing happily. Earlier they were wrestling merrily on the floor. Seems like the dog and the kittycat are fast friends. Dude, on the other hand, is highly offended by the presence of the new youngster. We are keeping them separated until Possum gets a little older and better able to fend off any ill-mannered offenses committed by Dude.
















