A month ago, my husband came home from taking garbage to the dumpster and said, "Do you want a little kitty that looks like Camilla?" I asked for details. He said he'd seen a kitten at the dumpster. I grabbed the cat carrier and we headed back to the dumpster.
The kitty was still there and came to me when I called. I put him into the carrier and gave him some dry food. He ate ravenously. The first cat he met when we arrived home was George, who'd joined our household last summer. George considers the carrier his private condo.
The kitty went into quarantine in the downstairs bathroom. George, however, was allowed to visit on occasion.
Before long, little Tanner (he looks like Camilla, but he's tanner than she is) got used to his new residence.
He found some toys that Maggie the border collie no longer played with. He loves toys!
He stayed downstairs until he recuperated from his neutering and we were sure he was healthy.
He was certainly a handsome little kitty . . .
. . . but he sometimes got into mischief.
He eventually was allowed upstairs where he met other members of the household—like Dylan, the senior male cat . . .
. . . and Camilla, the old lady cat, who was not impressed with him.
Eventually, Chloe and Jim-Bob got used to him . . .
. . . as did their mother, Olivia.
Soon he made himself right at home . . .
. . . and discovered lots of things to get into.
Looks like we'll keep him.