Formally Introducing Amir

 

There's been a recent addition to our family. I've written a different blog about Amir, but back then I wasn't sure if he was ours yet. Honestly, I'm still not. I keep expecting to find his owner. 

Two neighbors besides us have been feeding him since the summer, and none of us knows who he belongs to. 

It snowed on November second, and I worried about him. I knew it was going to get miserably cold this winter. An old wives tale says that if the evergreen trees produce a lot of pinecones, a cold winter is coming.  I was picking them up them with a shovel, and it turns out the wives tale was not wrong. But anyway, I opened the door and asked him if he'd like to come inside. There's the photo on the left.

He was skittish at first, creeping in with trepidation. I quietly shut the door behind him. He wasn't alarmed, but he wasn't socialable either. He spent the first night in the basement, under the futon. We left him alone, leaving him food, walking and talking softly. 

The next night, he came upstairs a different cat. He meowed loudly and ate his dinner with Freya and Grendel. Then he sat next to my desk and demanded pets, meowing, purring and rolling adorably. I was delighted, of course, and gave him exactly what he wanted. Dan and I fell in love. Freya and Grendel seemed to accept him well enough, with Freya only swatting him if he got in her personal space. 

He adapted so quickly, it made me a bit nervous. Surely, someone is looking for this sweet boy with the domesticated manners? 

He likes to be held. Even from the first time I picked him up, he didn't struggle like Grendel. He settled into my arms like it was the most natural thing in the world, purring and accepting kisses. 

He doesn't mind being brushed. In fact, he knows the routine. He's Persian, so obviously brushing is a must. When I brought the brush out, he lay on one side and allowed me to comb through all that fur. Then he rolled over and let me do the other side. Then he let me brush his tummy. He doesn't seem to like it--more like he accepts it must be done. 

I can pat the couch beside me, and he eagerly jumps up to receive affection. He's already found a favorite spot. He acts as though he's always been here. 

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He's intact, but somehow Amir has enough manners NOT to spray in the house. Not once.   (New edit: I think he tried twice to spray something. It didn't actually happen. He smells like a boy who sprays, but when he goes for his booster, I'm going to have him double checked.) 

See what I mean? Very domesticated, and such a diva. He likes to walk right behind us and announce his presence. Good thing too, because Dan has almost stepped on him twice and me once. He bellows everywhere he goes. We gotta get that boy fixed. 

That's our only problem, really. He's sneaky and likes to escape outside, regardless of the weather. My hair will be completely gray soon. I know that once we neuter Amir, that manic instinct to roam will subside somewhat. 

But you see my dilemma...He's such a mannerly boy, and he's obviously a wanderer because he isn't fixed....What if we get all his shots, get him neutered and someone comes to my door to claim him? What if he's a purebred Persian, and is intact for stud purposes? 

My grandma thinks he's been abandoned. I think she might be right. It's a terrible thought, that someone could have loved him, then left him. But when I come home, and he runs toward me as fast as his mittens can carry him, squeaking happily....I just want to be the one who loves him for the rest of his life. 

Can I have that?