Sigh - my cat is broken.

It started before we even moved into the Lair last November. For years, every morning I had to watch where I stepped because Click would often spread mouse innards all over the floor overnight. She brought all of them in from the outside, which is not how it would work in a perfect world, but I dared not complain: With the MouseMasticator on the job, no rodent would ever dare actually invade my home.

Then, late last year, she abruptly stopped doing it.

She put on a lot of weight. She took to hanging out with Little Bear day and night. She even wants to snuggle. Not just share body heat, she's always done that. No, she wants to nuzzle and buzz and have her head rubbed.

Who are you, and what have you done with my cat?

One of the things I've always liked about Click is that she's still alive, after something like eight years. She's got survival in a coyote-rich environment down. I don't know how she learned it, though I assume several near-death experiences were involved. The question is, how to pass that on?

Quite some time ago Landlady suggested that after I move, and before Click gets too old, I need to get her a kitten. The theory is that she'll pass on, if only by osmosis, the extremely rare trick of getting old in the desert. I haven't gotten around to it, not because I think it's a bad idea (though in the kitten's last moments on earth she might not think it was such a fabulous idea) but from a scarcity of kittens.

But a few days ago I pulled out my big chair to sweep around it and found - mouse droppings. INDOORS. Click is taking retirement far too seriously. This is unacceptable.

I need a new cat. Female, adaptable, and preferably about half feral. Must do well with dogs.