if i wasn’t already convinced that we are a spur-of-the-moment-decision-making family, the adoption of wilder grey made it abundantly clear that that was who we have always been (and would likely always be). after disliking cats (or thinking i did, anyway) for as long as i can remember, i was surprised that choosing to rehome ol’ elsie girl (for her own sake) earlier in the year had left a sizable hole in my heart. but i was even more surprised that when i opened instagram and came across a photo of a tiny, black, fuzz-ball of a kitten (who looked a little more like a baby bear than he did a cat, to be honest) being fostered by my good friend mara, that heart-hole elsie left was aching to be fixed.
i sent the photo to aaron faster than i had ever sent anyone anything, and he was instantly smitten, too. this was going to happen. we were going to make it happen.
a few weeks later, after we had gathered the last of the cat supplies and prepared our home for what was essentially a (biting, scratching, meowing) newborn, we drove on up to the shelter, signed what papers we needed to, got wilder, and became four.