On the second of July, two furry critters came to our house to foster. I've been referring to them as "Bruce's cats" because that's who they were. Jenna the Yarn Pimp just smiles at me and reminds me that they aren't Bruce's cats anymore. Patty, Bruce's sister, has not yet made a final decision. But the boys have been here for more than 100 days. For the first month, they hid in the basement. From Brûlée's clever choice of hiding spots, I could tell he was the criminal mastermind. Vincent just looks good on the wanted posters. Brûlée tended to hide on the bottom shelf of the holiday decorations or on a three-quarter-filled shelf of books. He would lurk behind the Star Wars novels, and then come out to have his nose and forehead rubbed if he deemed it safe enough. Vincent would cower in the corner, figuring that with his dark fur, he would just blend in and become invisible. He doesn't so much blend in as resemble a cat-shaped quantu...