More Newman

Newman is settling in well. Even the medication I have to give him for a week isn't causing him to hate me, though he isn't at all fond of the process. He's eating well, drinking water, using the litter box, sleeping a lot. Which makes sense, as they estimate he's ten, a grand age for a cat but hopefully with many happy years ahead of him.

Here he is when I first met him at the shelter, ready to accept scritches.

Riding home. He didn't love the carrier, but he was good, and far quieter than both Maggie, and Carlos before her. We even went into Petsmart to buy food, and the cashier was delighted with him.

Home and investigating.

He has a huge purr and is almost violently in love with being petted and scritched. His head-butt is a thing to be cautious of.

His claws really need to be trimmed, ouch.

How many pictures do I have of Maggie like this?

Passing behind me on the couch.

Hanging out in the office.

Here he is attempting to look innocent after he made strong and endless passes at my dinner Monday night.

"What? I've been here over 24 hours, we should be sharing."

So far, so very good!