Feline infidelity

So, as many of you may know, my kitty, Sammy, had a frank talk with me before I left for Texas about this time last year. He explained to me that, well, he'd become quite fond of his new surroundings in the Black Hills...beautiful weather, a posh pad, and well, he had this new roommate named L. that he'd become quite fond of...she grows her own catnip, you know. By the time we had this chat, Sammy and I had traveled a lot of miles together. First and foremost, there was his narrow escape from death row in Nebraska, after which he became my unofficial thesis advisor, spending hours alternatively poring over stacks of manuscripts and chewing on my computer cables. In the years that followed, he's driven Route 66 and seen Santa Fe in the fall. Sammy's spent a lazy weekend in Taos and visited Chicago during the winter holidays....the twinkly lights on Michigan Avenue were wonderful. He's even tried out almost every LaQuinta Inn along I-25 in Denver at one point or another, and found almost every single one to his liking. But despite his love for travel, he explained, he'd put down roots in South Dakota and was just a little reluctant to give it all up. Even for life in Europe. Thus, Sammy has made his South Dakota his home for now. And I'll admit to missing him quite a bit. Now, this is a dangerous thing for me to admit to around here. Why? Because M. works with veterinarians, and I have discovered that the vets are the equivalent of Match.com for the animal world. Their attitude is a little bit like, "What? You're not currently in a committed relationship with a pet? Well, let's get you hooked up!" It's hard enough just to go around the vet clinic, where there are tons of cats in need of homes being cared for by the vets, most of whom are pretty soft-hearted when it comes to strays. And, apparently, M. is becoming part veterinarian, as the latest installment in me trying to avoid adopting the pet-of-the-week involves a phone call from M. earlier today from a vet clinic he was visiting near Poland. M: "There's a kiiiiiiitty here." Me: "Uh, okay." M: "He's cuuuuuute. And being neutered tomo-ooooorrow." Me: "Great...glad they're getting that taken care of! I'm sure he'll make a nice pet." M: "Good. He'll be ready for pickup on Friday." Oy.