Scott and I were out for our walk this evening when we came upon a strange and wizened old man. Half expecting him to produce from his coat pockets a purse containing five magic beans we were not in the least bit surprised to instead be offered a ginger kitten. It was holed up in his garage, bedraggled, unwanted and alone.
The young are engineered to be beautiful, endearing and to bring out the ‘mother’ in us all. I tried explaining this to Scott, “don’t look into his eyes Scott, don’t do it!” But it was too late, we were in love.
They say that cats find their owners so who am I to stand in the way of a long held feline tradition?
Meet cat with no name …

Derry loves him to bits, thinks he is "awesome and cool". David and our gaggle/herd/flock (what is the correct term for a group of cats?) of kitties are going to take a little time to be won over. Perhaps if he had a name it would be a start, he would be less of an outsider and part of 'us'.

So far we have ... Ozzy (after Ozzy), Sid (after Vicious) and Bob (after Scotts nurse). Fingers on buzzers and please cast your votes now.