Although I've come to see my life as rather mundane and therefore, unworthy of regular journal entries, I realized there are a few things that might have been worth writing about after all.

Did I mention that I sent Sasha to live with her Schnauzer relatives at my mother's house?

The guilt was becoming too much for me. I felt that Sasha was too lonely trapped in the bathroom all day long while I worked, and the limited attention I was able to give her in the evenings wasn't enough to absolve me. Then, once I was home with her, I felt horrible if I had to leave again, whether it was to go tan or just run to the store. An entire evening away from home was out of the question (thus effectively hampering any plans I might have had to have a social life).

My mother had recently experienced the loss of the Schnauzer who started it all, Daisy, and I thought having Sasha around as a new element to focus her attention on might help a bit with the mourning process.

(Did I mention that? On the eleventh anniversary of my sister's death, Daisy was out playing in her back yard and suddenly, she could no longer move her hind legs. The vet said surgery would not only be expensive, but ultimately, there was no guarantee of a successful outcome, and Daisy would most likely have been paralyzed for the remainder of her life. So my mother, still unemployed and without resources to take such a risk, had to have Daisy put to sleep.)

Then there was the clear benefit to Sasha - companions. She'd have dogs to play with (my neighbors who had dogs have all moved away), and given my mother's love for her pets, I knew Sasha would never feel deprived of human attention either.

But then of course, I had the guilt of giving up an animal I also loved very much, and who I knew was devoted to me in return. That was the hardest part, and though Sasha is not my child, there was an ironic similarity in this decision and the one to relinquish physical custody of my children to their father.

Sometimes you do what isn't necessarily the best for your own emotional well-being, but rather, the thing that's the best for theirs.

But with Sasha gone, I was completely alone.

Did I mention that I never realized how much it would bother me to come home to an empty apartment every night?

Yes, I enjoyed the freedom from not rushing home to free Sasha from her owner-imposed prison every evening.

Yes, I enjoyed the freedom from not having to sleep with my bedroom door closed (because I didn't want Sasha roaming through the house and chewing up something out of anxiety - it was bad enough that she spent the time while I slept pulling things out of the bathroom trash and littering the floor).

Yes, I enjoyed the freedom from not feeling like a louse every time I wanted to go back out again.

But that sense of freedom didn't really last all that long, so I started considering what other living creature I might introduce into my life.

I thought about fish. I've had fish many times before in my life. My father, being a glass and mirror man, was always building new fish tanks; he even made a beautiful pair of tanks with mirrored bases once for Brandy and I when we were adults. The Ex and I had a lot of fun with our tank.

(Funny side story: when I was younger, my mother was vacuuming near our fish tank one afternoon. The lid on the tank was open, which was not unusual, but apparently, a kamikaze fish decided to leap from the tank at the exact moment that my mother swept the vacuum across the floor. Ewwwww!!)

While the idea of sitting in the dark watching a lighted tank with fish swimming around had merit from a meditative standpoint, I realized I wasn't interested in devoting all my time to water PH levels and watching fish die because of my ineptitude at picking compatible tankmates. Not to mention that I myself have been known to vacuum a floor every now and then. (The Ex wouldn't believe that, but it's true!)

So I thought about birds. I've never owned a bird before, but I've seen them at the pet store (and flying around outside of course, but that's entirely different).

But seriously, I think I'd be afraid of a bird's beak. Being pecked to death has stuck in my mind ever since I watched Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds. There's a huge tree near Planet Tan where (it seems like) thousands of them have congregated, and the chattering sound of their combined vocal chords sends horrible chills up my spine every time I go there.

Maybe a hamster? I've had hamsters before, and in the Stephanie Plum novels I've been reading, the main character has a pet hamster named Rex. But my most vivid memory of having hamsters was waking up from a sound sleep because one of them was chewing hair off the top of my head (for nesting needs, apparently). Half asleep and not realizing what exactly was nibbling on me, I reached up, grabbed it, and threw it across the room. Poor Brutus. He never sneaked out of his cage again.

Hermit crab? How fitting for a hermit like me. But they die too soon in my experience - so I decided my only encounter with crabs would be the occasional re-reading of my copy of Grasper. (Yes, it's a children's book - but it has a message that adults need to hear as well.)

Ultimately, I realized my new pet would have to be a cat. As much as I am a dog person, I'm also a cat person (remember, I'm a dichotomy). I think cats are clever, fun to watch, and most of all, they're more independent than dogs. A cat was less likely to care whether I was there or not, as long as I remembered to feed it once in a while. Perfect.

I went to the SPCA of Texas website, and spotted a beautiful female cat named Murphy. When I called about Murphy, she was in quarantine due to a cold, so I had to wait a few days before she was available for adoption. When I finally was able to see her, I was dismayed to see she had no tail!

This just would not do. For me, the tail is an essential part of a cat. I couldn't imagine having a cat without a tail, so despite my anxious waiting for Murphy, there was no way I was taking her home.

But I was disappointed. She was a Siamese mix, and her blue eyes were stunning. I had wanted her to be the one I was taking with me.

Back and forth I went, looking at the remaining cats, finally noticing a female tabby who so much resembled my beloved Neo that I couldn't believe I'd overlooked her on the website.

I paid the $80 to save Stella's life and bring her home.

So far, there have only been a couple of minor annoyances with owning a cat.

The first is obviously, the hair. I wear a lot of black clothing, so it's a good thing those lint rollers are relatively cheap.

The second is that my lovely black leather couch is vulnerable now, as well as my white wicker, and both have suffered a little already. But I try to keep her nails clipped (oh my gosh, she actually lets me clip her nails. Okay, only a couple at a time, but still - I really figured that would be a nightmare experience with the only result being numerous scratches on me).

Occasionally, she decides that she needs my attention at three a.m. when I'm dead asleep. She starts by giving me nose-kisses and gentle love pats with her paws (another surprise, as Neo didn't understand the words "gentle love pat"), then searches under the pillow for my hand so she can nibble on it. I turn from one side of the bed to the other, and she just follows me over to that side, her purring increasing in volume until I'm forced to address her.

Things I find more bizarre:

She's fascinated by the sound of the hair dryer. Rather than running off as I'd expect most cats to do, she comes in to watch me every morning as I'm damaging my hair with too much heat.

She licks me. (In fact, as I sit in the chair typing this, she's in my lap, licking my arm.) Have you ever been licked by a cat? Their tongues are very rough, and it's an odd sensation that can only be taken in small doses. Stella must think I'm a cat she needs to groom and take care of, or otherwise, I must taste like catnip.

She likes to chew on my jewelry. Watch, bracelet, rings, necklace. What's up with that?? I can understand the shiny, silver appeal, but can't imagine chewing on them would be all that tempting.

But I like these things about Stella, because they appeal to my sense of eccentricity. They give her a personality that is all her own, and that personality seems well suited to mine.