It's official: I've reached spinsterhood

I'm single, rapidly approaching age 30, and I'm telling tales about my cat. This is not going to be a frequent point of discussion, but since there was such nice interest in my new companion, I thought I'd provide an update of the First Night Home.

I picked Eowyn up right as the clinic was closing yesterday afternoon. She didn't look as zombie-like as the cat who left as I arrived, but she was still pretty out of it. When we arrived home, she stumbled around my bedroom (her home for the next week while she's recovering and we're painting the hallway), sniffing everything, looking out the window, inspecting and then circling around again. She finally settled down in the closet where she proceeded to glower for a while. At some point she relocated, though, and was under the bed when I left for work this morning. I don't think she ate or drank anything, but she did find and use the litter box. I guess the first evening was as successful as it could be considering the circumstances.