Meet Sam

I hope we have enough mice and moles for this cat.

I found a kitty in need of an outdoor home and invited him to come live with us. He's starting out very shy. And huge. Did I mention he's huge? His feet are practically hands.

Hands. On a cat. The end of humankind is nigh.

Wanting little to do with us, he escaped my gentle but perhaps premature attempts to Pat the Cat by taking a leap from the stairs into the ceiling.

This ain't no cute little Ceiling Cat, though.

Now he just stares at us.

Like this.

Feel that? That's your soul being evaluated by this cat, and found wanting.

His head doesn't move.

Just the eyes.

Those terrible, terrible eyes.

Back and forth.

Disapprovingly.

Like a creepy disapproving cat clock.

With terrifying, lamplight eyes.

Joe's evaluation after his first view of New Cat Sam, the cat glowering down from above us like a skeptical god, was that he looks like a lion. He totally does, too.

He's a beautiful cat and I love him to pieces already and I expect he'll warm to us and there'll be big kitty hugs all around, though that fur + Apple's grabby grabby hands has me concerned. Getting Sam to the vet Tuesday will be a challenge (he needs neutered). His coat's a bit mattedy, so I need to buy a kitty brush.

And maybe some whiskey.

To steel my nerves first.

Or, to disinfect the gaping wound where my arm used to be before Giant Person-Eating Cat has suffered an attempt from Mere 180-Pound Woman to brush his fur and have his balls cut off.

Welcome home, Sam.