Edgar has officially been with us for forty days, which sounds biblical because, at this point, it is. In that time, he has drooled on me, tormented the dog, tried to terrorize Mr. Darcy, endangered himself in creative new ways, and earned an extended stay in the bathroom prison. Meanwhile, Mr. Darcy is still here, still elderly, still medically complicated, and still very much himself. This episode is about pet chaos, ongoing stress, domestic decline, and the strange reality that all of these animals are driving me insane and I love them dearly.

I do not do spiders, which became a serious problem when a large and deeply offensive one took over my favorite chair. In this episode: Mr. Darcy’s retirement from active pest control, Boof’s ongoing criminal behavior, Edgar’s shocking refusal to act like a cat, and the moment Dave proved himself to be the only functional member of this household.

Edgar Allan Purr is eight months old, and his personality has officially launched.

He steals Mr. Darcy’s food, compromises the royal chamberpot, destroys toilet paper, demands ice, sings while he purrs, and has slowly dismantled every remaining shred of household discipline through the combined force of toe beans and emotional manipulation.

This bonus episode is an incident report from inside the Edgar administration.

The purr bug has entered his tyrant era.

Pray for us.

I have four children, and only one of them is human. In this episode: Mr. Darcy protests the washing of his royal bedding, Piper serves as household informant, Boof loves mud but hates baths, and Edgar continues his campaign of emotional manipulation, bathroom occupation, and open warfare against the elderly.

He was fifteen weeks old. He had been here eight days. The takeover was already complete.

Before Edgar took over the house, he first took over my bathroom. In this episode, I talk about those early days: careful introductions, kitten filth, Mr. Darcy’s deep skepticism, Boof’s overwhelming enthusiasm, and the small morning ritual that made me completely smitten with a tiny, exhausting, cocoa-colored menace.

This is a special bonus episode.

My husband is turning 50, and naturally, the celebration involves expensive coffee made from digested beans, a late-night forensic investigation over a mysterious pair of underwear, and a family group text that should not exist.

In this episode: rogue boxer briefs, inherited bad decisions, yellow jackets with terrible timing, and a man who has never once chosen dignity when absurdity was available.

He is not suave. He is not smooth. But he is steady, funny, and somehow still mine.

Happy birthday, Dave.

I spent two months trying to train Boof for Edgar’s arrival, only to discover that Boof was not the one I should have been worried about. In this episode: careful introductions, one wildly misleading success, and the horrifying moment I realized the kitten was the one with chemical weapons.

I got asked to put a price on my firefly fieldwork, and apparently that sent me into a full moral crisis. In this episode: contractor paperwork, travel math, obscure bug expertise, and the deeply humbling realization that “I got paid to catch bugs” is both a true sentence and a ridiculous one.

Edgar had been home less than an hour when he managed to wedge himself into a vanity drawer and force us into hostage negotiations. By midnight we were using food as bait, questioning our life choices, and beginning to understand that this kitten was not refined, dignified, or remotely normal. Naturally, I fell in love with him almost immediately.