JC and I just couldn't bring ourselves to replace them. We hadn't even talked about it.
Last Saturday, we went to the farmer's market to buy veggies, and the local animal shelter was visiting there . . . in an attempt to adopt out some of its over-abundance of kittens. There was a deeply bonded pair of sisters, one black and one gray tabby . . . about eight weeks old.
To make a long story short, they came home with us. They are holy terrors (smiles), and so far, we've only been able to shoot a picture of them when they are sleeping.
We named them Cinders and Ashes.
JC writes at our dining room table on a tall, bar stool chair. This is a shot of them sleeping on his chair. They're so small that to get up onto this chair, they have to jump, grab the cloth cushion with their claws, and pull their little bodies up.
So . . . the Hendee house once again has a pair of quintessential writers' cats.