Written September 1, 2025
Hello, Dear Readers,
This morning, I thought the big achievement was finishing my run. Little did I know, I’d also be adopting a feline goddess before dinner. Yes—meet Artemis, the future queen of our home.
We’ve been cat-less since 2023, when we said goodbye to our beloved Gambi after 18 glorious years of cuddles, meows, and fur-covered furniture. My wife’s heart took a long time to heal—understandably so. You don’t just replace a cat like that. You mourn. You reminisce. You scroll through thousands of blurry but precious photos.
For a while, we were in a “just looking” phase—aka the emotional equivalent of window shopping for heartbreak. We knew we needed a hypoallergenic kitty (thanks to my sisters and their sneezy rebellion), so Siamese was at the top of the list. Plus, they’re famously chatty, dog-like, and full of personality. In other words: my wife’s dream roommate.
Now, I suspected she wasn’t quite ready to adopt—until she surprised me this morning with “I found one.” Just like that. After months of “maybe later,” the stars (and the Craigslist gods) aligned.
We contacted the seller immediately. Thankfully, this wasn’t one of those sketchy “we’ll ship your cat from a faraway land for a low-low price of eternal regret” situations. This seller was local-ish and insisted on in-person pickup—a good sign. So we hopped in the car for a 75-minute drive on Labor Day, armed with enthusiasm and… a freshly washed cat carrier from our Gambi days.
When we arrived, we met four fluffy candidates. It didn’t take long—my wife’s eyes locked on one little girl. You know that look. Game over.
Kitten acquired. Money exchanged. Artemis meowed the entire ride home like she was giving a TED Talk on feline relocation trauma. I offered moral support via finger-through-cage-bar, but I didn’t open it. I’m not that much of a softie (or risk-taker).
Back home, she emerged from her carrier like a tiny explorer setting foot on a strange new continent. I gave her my room for base camp—cat tower, access to the laundry room, plenty of toys. She’s still a little shy, but she’s already claimed the territory, scarfed some food, and started pouncing like she owns the place. (Which, let’s be honest, she probably will.)
And her name? Artemis. Goddess of the hunt. Judging by her sneak attacks on a feather toy, she’s ready to live up to it.
I am so happy about her. I named her Artemis. She will be a great huntress the way she is playing around her toy.