Isn’t he beautiful?
My hair-dooder, Alicia, knew I was looking for a mature cat (kittens don’t survive well in these woods). So when her friend, Meg, mentioned she had to get rid of her cats, she hooked us up.
The moment we let Bailey out of his cage, he took off. The next morning we could tell he had slept in his box on the porch, but he was nowhere to be found. It turns out he was hiding under the grill cover. Smart cat.
He and Whiskey are still trying to figure things out. Since Bailey outweighs Whiskey by at least 20 lbs and has claws… well, let’s just say that Whiskey has already learned to quit sniffing Bailey’s butt.