Two down.

Five to go.

Cats, that is.

Finally got up the nerve to actually *talk* to someone on the phone who offered to take some cats off my hands, instead of writing them off by such random qualifiers as "they don't know how to use apostrophes" or "they have children".

Drove out two cats to his place close to Santa Fe. He wants mousers for his barn but assures me he'll feed 'em and they'll have shelter regardless. I could be wrong in my assessment of his character, but somehow I do feel OK about it. Breeder or not, I liked how he was dressed (stylish thrift-store), how his car looked (once fashionable, now used but well-maintained), the bumper stickers it had on it (old school "Earth First"), and the look of his child and wife (a bit chaotic but healthy and happy), not to mention how he handled the cats -- with care.

I'm now two cats fewer, here. That's not a bad thing.