Enter Wilson

I have never been one who names their plants. Stuffed animals? Of course. Dolls? Sure. Plants? Not so much. Enter Wilson. So named because he reminded me so much of the volleyball in Tom Hanks' movie, Castaway (Oh how I cried when that inanimate volleyball drifted off to sea).






My Wilson, the plant, was my consolation prize for having my hand touch my brother's urine. My brother let me take his plant home from the hospital after a mishap with his urinal....See blog titled "Pee Pocket". We instantly bonded, Wilson and I. He is adorable!

Its difficult to find a safe place for a plant to rest at my house. Cats are curious and we all know what happens to the curious cat, right? All the elevated plant appropriate places are already occupied by other unnamed plants, but I thought I could make room for Wilson. I wanted to make room for him.

Immediately I brought him home and sat him on the counter. Tino was the first to greet Wilson. Pretty benign sniffing and some dirt digging. I'm no dummy; I knew this could go sour fast, so up on the microwave went Wilson where I thought he would be safe. I leave to do some obsessive blogging....Only to return to find Muffin having an affair with poor Wilson. Raping him in fact. Being the hero that I am, I stepped in to rescue Wilson who escaped with a few minor injuries. He will recover and be just fine. Wilson now resides high upon another shelf in the kitchen safe from Muffin's lust. We will make it work. The cats and Wilson can, and will, live in harmony. Welcome Wilson!!!