Smaaht Kitty was happily snoozing on the Kitty Blanket. It was soft and fuzzy on one side, and soft and even MORE fuzzy on the other. He and his sister, Little Kitty, had loved the blanket from the moment they saw it, and the two spent much of their time sleeping, playing or kneeding on the blanket. When they were little(-er) they had even nursed on it.
"Kitten. My little Smaaht Kitty... Wake up..." Mom said, gently picking Smaaht Kitty up. He blinked at her, and yawned. "Come on, Kitten." and Mom cuddled him and carried him off to Dad, where she told the two of them to be good.
"Wasshait?" Smaaht Kitty said. He didn't wake up quickly, and was still not certain what had just happened, but he was in someone's lap, anyway, so that was good. At least, it WAS, until he heard his sister. "But MOOOOM, that's OUR blanket!"
"Blanket?!" Said Smaaht Kitty, who was begining to thing something was just not right with this situation. He got up to investigate, and found Little Kitty, Mom, and the Blanket in the room with Shower. Little Kitty was glaring at Mom from the side of the tub, and the Blanket was IN Shower! And it was getting WET! "Mom! How COULD you?!" Smaaht Kitty demanded.
"She's become evil." said Little Kitty. "We should purr and meow at her, to teach her a lesson."
While the kittens made a Fuss™, Mom continued to fill the tub with water from Shower, and Blanket got wetter and wetter. It was Little Kitty who noticed that the water wasn't it's normal clear color; "Why's it so... brown?" Little Kitty asked. "And it smells not nice." She looked at the water with disdain, then looked at Mom.
"See, it needs to be washed. I told you." said Mom. "That thing's been camping for six weeks every year for three years, it's been loved on by your Uncle Cooper, and now you two, with your Litter Paws of Death™ going on. It's FILTHY." She poured a good dollop of something that smelled like the best kind of Kitty Bedding (clean laundry!) into the water, and swished it with her hands.
"Do you want to use a broom handle, or something?" asked Dad, who had come to see what all the Fuss™ was about. "That's pretty nasty." Mom declined, and the Kittens found themselves scooped up and handed off to Dad, and shut out of the room with Shower, and their poor blanket. The door closed in their faces, and Little Kitty decided to go the dignified route; she went to nap on one of the kitchen chairs.
Smaaht Kitty decided to mew, and cry and try to open the door. "It ALWAYS opens. Why won't it open!?" he cried, pushing on the door as hard as he could. While he continued his efforts, the Kittens heard Shower come on two more times, and finally Mom emerged. She smelled like clean laundry more than like the icky water, but the icky water was still definitely present.
"Ok, you two. You can't go in the bathroom until that thing is done soaking. I just don't trust you not to jump in, get tangled and DROWN." Mom said, looking mostly at Smaaht Kitty.
She and Dad left ("They LEFT. How COULD they!?" Smaaht Kitty wanted to know) for a while, and the door to the room with Shower stayed closed. That night, one of the kittens opened it, but when Mom discovered this, both kittens were dry and innocent looking; they weren't telling her who managed it, but she suspected Smaaht Kitty anyway.
In the morning, the tub was drained, the Blanket was rinsed one more time, and the tub was filled again to be sure all the Clean Laundry liquid had washed out of it. Once again, the door was closed in little Kitten faces. This time, though, Smaaht Kitty opened the door quickly, and the two Kittens snuck in before Mom could notice.
"Oh, look!" Said Smaaht Kitty. "It's not that wet, Blanket makes an island, so we can hop on and not get wet!" And so saying, he hopped.
*SPLASH* "Oh! Oh woe is me!" cried Smaaht Kitty. "Woe, I tell you!" Mom came into the room to find the orange kitty hauling his dripping, soggy self free of the sodden, and now-obviously floating Blanket. "I'm WET." Smaaht Kitty informed her.
"Oh, KITTEN." Mom said. "See, I knew you'd do something like that. But at least you didn't drown." She shook her head, and grabbed a towel, and started drying Smaaht Kitty off. "So, next time I close the door, you think maybe you'll remember there's a reason?" Little Kitty tried to hide a laugh while Smaaht Kitty ignored Mom's words in favor of nomming on her hands. "Yeah. I kinda thought not." Mom said. She finished drying Smaaht Kitty, and then began draining the Blanket. "Well, this is clean, anyway. Getting it to dry'll be special, though, since it's raining." She left the Blanket to drain, and left the Kittens to dry.
Smaaht Kitty, having had enough of being wet for one day, followed Mom. He figured he could share the Damp and spread the love at the same time. Little Kitty spent a bit more time watching the water flow out, but eventually, she too left the room.
Hours later, Mom and Kittens returned. The kittens watched as Mom wrestled the still sodden Blanket onto a large, odd rack that barely fit in the tub. And then the kittens watched as water trickled down from the Blanket. Facinated, Little Kitty climbed into the tub, and sniffed the water. "Ah-choo!" she said as water went up her nose. *sniff sniff sniff* "Aaah-choo!" Smaaht Kitty watched as his sister repeated this process over and over. Eventually, she started drinking the dribbles of water, instead of inhaling them, and Smaaht Kitty lost interest. "You have fun with that." Mom said, and she too, left Little Kitty to her fun.
"Moooooom! It stopped dripping." Little Kitty said, rubbing her wet head all over Mom's previously warm and dry leg. "Now what am I supposed to drink?" Mom just looked at her, then scooped her up, and took her into the room with Shower, and dried her off. "You have a bowl of water, you know. You don't HAVE to get all wet to get a drink." Mom informed Little Kitty, while scrubbing the kitten's head dry. "But I don't suppose either you or your brother will ever believe me on that point."
The Blanket, now left to it's own devices, hangs, and drips occasionally, and generally is pouting at being all wet still, three days after it's soggy adventure began. The sun is out, though, so the Blanket will be moved to the laundry line, and will dry, and be useful again soon.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Affectionate Adventures.
"Mom, PET MEEEEEEEE!" Said Smaaht Kitty. He posed prettily so Mom would be even MORE inclined to pet him, but she wasn't looking. "Hmmm.." said Smaaht Kitty. New tactic. "Mew?" and Smaaht Kitty opened his eyes as large as he could, and stared with all the "you know you need to pet me now" vibes he could muster. "Mew?" he said again.
Mom continued ignoring him in favor of the White Box That Holds Runny Things-To-Be-Chased. Tappeta tappeta tappeta, went the bits in front of it. "Mom, why are you petting the White Box, and not me?" Smaaht Kitty demanded. He leaped up from the floor and into her lap, and pushed her hands away from the White Box. "You should pet me now. See, I'm better than the White Box."
"Kitten, I'm working." Mom said. But she petted him, a little. But then, HORRORS! she went back to tapping the White Box, and ignoring Smaaht Kitty, even though he was in her lap, and PURRING, even! "Mom! I... I feel so unloved..." And Smaaht Kitty jumped down from Mom's lap.
"Dad will pet me." said Smaaht Kitty to himself. He walked over to Dad, who was tapping on the Black Box, which was just like the White Box; odd, and warm, and full of runny things that the Kitties weren't allowed to chase, even though they so obviously should be chased. "Dad, PET ME." Smaaht Kitty said, and put his paws on Dad's leg, so that Dad would have to pet him. "Hi, Kitten." said Dad. But Dad kept tapping, not petting Smaaht Kitty. "Mew?" Smaaht Kitty tried. "Mew?" Dad continued to ignore him, and there wasn't even space in Dad's lap to leap up and show him the error of his ways. (Smaaht Kitty knew this since he had tried on several occasions to leap into Dad's lap only to slam his head into hard, unkind things that held the tappy bits of the Black Box on which Dad lavished so much attention. It was very rude of Dad to have such a thing, Smaaht Kitty had decided, but forgivable, since it was Dad.)
There was a new woman in the house today, talking with Dad's Mom, maybe she would pet Smaaht Kitty? The new woman was sitting atop the giant ball-toy-thing that sometimes rolled at him, so Smaaht Kitty was cautious. Also, since he was tired of being ignored, Smaaht Kitty decided to check out the ball-thing from behind the woman first, so he had a good chance of gaining her favorable attention.
Smaaht Kitty walked up behind the woman, and batted the ball. So far, so good: the ball didn't move. He stood up on his hind legs, and pushed it. Still no movement. ...And still no attention. Mom was still doing her "working" thing, and Dad was still tapping away. The woman still hadn't noticed him. He pounced, and tried to get on top of the ball, but there wasn't enough room, and he slid off. But the ball-thing still didn't move, and still nobody noticed him. Except for Little Kitty, who laughed at his sliding off. "Silly! You don't fit on that, you'll have to try harder!"
"Little Kitty, you're mean!" said Smaaht Kitty. "I'll show you!" And he leaped has high as he could, and put one paw on each side of the woman's head, and held on to her shoulders. "Hah! See, I fit!" said Smaaht Kitty, even as the woman said "What is that!?" and Dad said "Smaaht Kitty!"
And then the world held perfectly still for only a moment; surprise on the woman's face, irritation on Dad's face, amusement on Dad's Mom's face, and confusion on Mom's face. Smaaht Kitty had a moment to be smug, and Little Kitty had a moment to question her brother's sanity.
And then, very slowly, Smaaht Kitty began to slide. Kittens weren't meant to hang by their front paws on something as narrow as human shoulders, and Smaaht Kitty wasn't rude enough to use his claws to halt his slide. Ssshhhhhsssp, went the sound of Smaaht Kitty's paws on the woman's jacket. Tup-tp, when the sound of Smaaht Kitty's back feet hitting the ball-thing. TumblTHUD went Smaaht Kitty, head over tail as he lost is balance and fell backwards off the ball. Silence reigned.
"OH, Kitten!" Said Mom.
"Oh, it was a kitten!" Said the woman, who had been wondering who was touching her shoulders.
"Oh, Brother." Said Little Kitty.
"Ok, you two." said Mom. "That's enough adventure today." and she picked both kittens up and carried them into the other room to pet them and play with them, and keep them away from unsuspecting Clients.
***The front room of our house is home to a business. We got lucky, this particular Client doesn't mind cats, she was just surprised and wondered who was giving her a back rub before my dear Kitten slid off her jacket. Kittens will no longer be allowed in the office while clients are here, though.
Mom continued ignoring him in favor of the White Box That Holds Runny Things-To-Be-Chased. Tappeta tappeta tappeta, went the bits in front of it. "Mom, why are you petting the White Box, and not me?" Smaaht Kitty demanded. He leaped up from the floor and into her lap, and pushed her hands away from the White Box. "You should pet me now. See, I'm better than the White Box."
"Kitten, I'm working." Mom said. But she petted him, a little. But then, HORRORS! she went back to tapping the White Box, and ignoring Smaaht Kitty, even though he was in her lap, and PURRING, even! "Mom! I... I feel so unloved..." And Smaaht Kitty jumped down from Mom's lap.
"Dad will pet me." said Smaaht Kitty to himself. He walked over to Dad, who was tapping on the Black Box, which was just like the White Box; odd, and warm, and full of runny things that the Kitties weren't allowed to chase, even though they so obviously should be chased. "Dad, PET ME." Smaaht Kitty said, and put his paws on Dad's leg, so that Dad would have to pet him. "Hi, Kitten." said Dad. But Dad kept tapping, not petting Smaaht Kitty. "Mew?" Smaaht Kitty tried. "Mew?" Dad continued to ignore him, and there wasn't even space in Dad's lap to leap up and show him the error of his ways. (Smaaht Kitty knew this since he had tried on several occasions to leap into Dad's lap only to slam his head into hard, unkind things that held the tappy bits of the Black Box on which Dad lavished so much attention. It was very rude of Dad to have such a thing, Smaaht Kitty had decided, but forgivable, since it was Dad.)
There was a new woman in the house today, talking with Dad's Mom, maybe she would pet Smaaht Kitty? The new woman was sitting atop the giant ball-toy-thing that sometimes rolled at him, so Smaaht Kitty was cautious. Also, since he was tired of being ignored, Smaaht Kitty decided to check out the ball-thing from behind the woman first, so he had a good chance of gaining her favorable attention.
Smaaht Kitty walked up behind the woman, and batted the ball. So far, so good: the ball didn't move. He stood up on his hind legs, and pushed it. Still no movement. ...And still no attention. Mom was still doing her "working" thing, and Dad was still tapping away. The woman still hadn't noticed him. He pounced, and tried to get on top of the ball, but there wasn't enough room, and he slid off. But the ball-thing still didn't move, and still nobody noticed him. Except for Little Kitty, who laughed at his sliding off. "Silly! You don't fit on that, you'll have to try harder!"
"Little Kitty, you're mean!" said Smaaht Kitty. "I'll show you!" And he leaped has high as he could, and put one paw on each side of the woman's head, and held on to her shoulders. "Hah! See, I fit!" said Smaaht Kitty, even as the woman said "What is that!?" and Dad said "Smaaht Kitty!"
And then the world held perfectly still for only a moment; surprise on the woman's face, irritation on Dad's face, amusement on Dad's Mom's face, and confusion on Mom's face. Smaaht Kitty had a moment to be smug, and Little Kitty had a moment to question her brother's sanity.
And then, very slowly, Smaaht Kitty began to slide. Kittens weren't meant to hang by their front paws on something as narrow as human shoulders, and Smaaht Kitty wasn't rude enough to use his claws to halt his slide. Ssshhhhhsssp, went the sound of Smaaht Kitty's paws on the woman's jacket. Tup-tp, when the sound of Smaaht Kitty's back feet hitting the ball-thing. TumblTHUD went Smaaht Kitty, head over tail as he lost is balance and fell backwards off the ball. Silence reigned.
"OH, Kitten!" Said Mom.
"Oh, it was a kitten!" Said the woman, who had been wondering who was touching her shoulders.
"Oh, Brother." Said Little Kitty.
"Ok, you two." said Mom. "That's enough adventure today." and she picked both kittens up and carried them into the other room to pet them and play with them, and keep them away from unsuspecting Clients.
***The front room of our house is home to a business. We got lucky, this particular Client doesn't mind cats, she was just surprised and wondered who was giving her a back rub before my dear Kitten slid off her jacket. Kittens will no longer be allowed in the office while clients are here, though.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
The Second Adventure
| At six am, Smaaht Kitty said "It's time to get up, Mom!" and proceeded to pounce, purr, lick, bite, bat and otherwise terrorize Mom. Mom said "Urg." and tossed him off the bed. Not ever one to be detered, Smaaht Kitty enlisted the help of his sister, Little Kitty, who was asleep on Mom's butt. "Sis, sis! Play with me! If we tumble enough all over Mom, she'll HAVE to get up!" and so the two kitties tumbled, batted, squirmed and trampled their Mom. Mom said "Urg." and tossed them both off the bed. "But MOOOOOOOOO~M!" Smaaht Kitty said. "PLAAAAAY with us!" Mom attempted to smother him with a pillow. "Smaaht Kitty, come play out here!" said Little Kitty. She was tired of getting tossed around. Thundering out of the room, they left Mom to sleep a little more, and went to wreak havoc in other rooms of the house. A little after 7am, Mom got up and turned on the stream of water called Shower. Little Kitty, as usual, climbed up on the ledge between the two curtains on the outside of Shower. Today, though, she stumbled, and fell to her watery doom in the wet Hell below! "Ack!" said Little Kitty. "Ack WET! Let me outta here!!!! MOOOOOO~M!" And Little Kitty clambered out of Shower, and onto the floor, gasping and panting from her near death experience. Mom, for her part, was howling with laughter, but she was kind enough to wrap Little Kitty up in a towel, and to dry her off. "Sis, are you ok?" asked Smaaht Kitty. "Ack." Said Little Kitty. "I'm alive, anyway." "What HAPPENED? Why are you wet? We don't usually get wet when we're in Shower." said Smaaht Kitty. And he was right. Usually, the two kitties only hopped in Shower when it was turned off, and so only their feet got wet, and not the rest of them. Today, though, Little Kitty had fallen in with Shower ON, and so she was wet. Smaaht Kitty didn't realize this, though, and so when Mom and Dad were both in Shower, he decided to join them; after all, *he* didn't get wet when he went in there, only silly Sisters did! "Hmm..." said Smaaht Kitty. "This... this doesn't feel all that dry...." and he wandered around his Mom and Dad's feet a bit, just to make sure. "No... nope, definitely not... um...I'm wet, and it's not OK!" said Smaaht Kitty. So he ran back the way he had come, getting even MORE wet, and finally scampered out of Shower. He sat, licking himself madly, in a huff. "I got WET. That's just not ok!" Dad got out of the shower and fluffled Smaaht Kitty a bit with a towel. "Hey, hey! I've got it, I can clean myself, you're NOT HELPING!!!" and with that, Smaaht Kitty fled the room. "Serves you right, Kitties, for waking me up at six!" Said Mom. "Pitty this won't teach them..." | |
The First Adventure
The Little Kitty said "Look! Look, Mom, what I found!"
And the Little Kitty's Mom said "Oh, did you find some granola on the floor, Little Kitty?"
The Little Kitty scoffed. "It's not granola! No, it's an evil Fiend, it's just *disguised* as granola!" And the Little Kitty proceeded to ferociously bat the evil Granola Fiend around the desert known as Kit Chenfloor. She battled mightily, for many days, until the evil Granola Fiend was banished under the mountain called Fridge.
"Hah!" Said the Little Kitty. "Take that, Granola Fiend!" She smirked. "Hmm... but now I'm bored... Come *back* here and fight, you coward!" she shouted. The Granola Fiend, however, was stuck under the mountain, and was never coming out. "Oh, FINE." the Little Kitty grumbled. "Maybe that prophecy is true, and someday the mountain Fridge will be moved, and he'll be forced out with the Mighty Broom. Then he'll have to play. Oh, well!" And the Little Kitty pranced home to tell her Mom that the evil Granola Fiend had been defeated.
"See, Mom! I saved you from that sneaky Granola Fiend. Maybe now you'll listen to me." Little Kitty said. "Especially when I warn you about Ninjas. 'Cause Ninjas are smarter than evil Granola Fiends." Little Kitty nodded to herself. Her Mom just smiled, and petted her.
"You're a very brave Little Kitty, and you're darling." and Little Kitty was pleased, and lay down to nap after her exhausting battle, so she could be prepared for the next sneaky Fiend who threatened her domain.
And the Little Kitty's Mom said "Oh, did you find some granola on the floor, Little Kitty?"
The Little Kitty scoffed. "It's not granola! No, it's an evil Fiend, it's just *disguised* as granola!" And the Little Kitty proceeded to ferociously bat the evil Granola Fiend around the desert known as Kit Chenfloor. She battled mightily, for many days, until the evil Granola Fiend was banished under the mountain called Fridge.
"Hah!" Said the Little Kitty. "Take that, Granola Fiend!" She smirked. "Hmm... but now I'm bored... Come *back* here and fight, you coward!" she shouted. The Granola Fiend, however, was stuck under the mountain, and was never coming out. "Oh, FINE." the Little Kitty grumbled. "Maybe that prophecy is true, and someday the mountain Fridge will be moved, and he'll be forced out with the Mighty Broom. Then he'll have to play. Oh, well!" And the Little Kitty pranced home to tell her Mom that the evil Granola Fiend had been defeated.
"See, Mom! I saved you from that sneaky Granola Fiend. Maybe now you'll listen to me." Little Kitty said. "Especially when I warn you about Ninjas. 'Cause Ninjas are smarter than evil Granola Fiends." Little Kitty nodded to herself. Her Mom just smiled, and petted her.
"You're a very brave Little Kitty, and you're darling." and Little Kitty was pleased, and lay down to nap after her exhausting battle, so she could be prepared for the next sneaky Fiend who threatened her domain.
In the begining.
Because some of you have missed this:
In January of 2009, we decided to get a cat. I wanted a pet, and we are often gone over the weekends to places where a pet isn't all that welcome, and so it was decided that we should get a cat, rather than a dog. Cats, as an added benefit, are much cheaper than dogs, particularly as I prefer rather large dogs. We only wanted one, as two were deemed too much expense, and probably too much trouble.
Our household is fairly busy, even though there are only two people living here. There is a business in the front room, and so we needed a cat that would be ok with lots of random people coming and going, as well as one that was ok with large groups of people, since we also often have gatherings here. Most adult cats are fairly anti-social, except in a very few cases, and most of those cases aren't given up to shelters, because they're awesome cats. So I started looking for a kitten.
In early February, there weren't very many kittens available. I checked Craigslist, and the local shelters, and even the newspaper. I started calling every single one I found, because so few of them bothered to respond. It was depressing. When I finally got a hold of a kitten rescue on the Peninsula, I was told that they couldn't work with me, because I live too far away. In bad traffic, on a bad day, I live 45 minutes away from the Peninsula. I'm willing to drive out there, meet the kitten, possibly pay $125 adoption fee, and you can't work with me because of where I live? "Well, we do home inspections before you can adopt." Ok, so figure 45 minutes, let's say an hour, to be kind, to drive here, an hour for a home tour, and an hour drive home; 3 hours, at most, of someone's time to see to it that this kitten has a good home? Alright, fine. When I saw the same kitten re-posted two weeks later like some unwanted couch from hell, I called again. I understand that we live out of your normal range, but, come ON. If you haven't found anyone yet, can't we just come out and meet with you? The answer was still no.
I am glad for how things worked out, but seriously? I think if you really had that kitten's best interest at heart, you'd have met with us, at least.
By the end of March, I'd spoken to exactly two people, total, and had no luck at all. Kitten Season is Spring and Early Summer, so my anxiety was mostly just me being silly, but it still felt a lot like we were never going to find a kitten, let alone one mellow enough to thrive in our household. After all, don't most cats no like people? I was on the verge of giving up, when one of our friends came over, and, very casually, mentioned "There are kittens at my house." Boy did I perk up!
It turns out that her housemate fosters kittens for the Berkeley SPCA, and had been doing so for many years. This particular batch of kittens had been found at roughly 6 days old, abandoned, no mother in sight. There were six of them, ranging from 94 to 134 grams YES, GRAMS, each. The heaviest one weighed about 5 ounces, or a little more than a King Size Snickers bar.
We met them four days later, just as their eyes were opening. There were three darling little orange kittens, destined to become tabbies, and three darling little black splotchy ones, destined to become tortise shells. They were far too young to have much in the way of personality, but each one had a little paper collar with a little paper nametag. They were named after fruits: Coconut, Pomagranate, Pina Colada, Guava and two others that I don't remember. An orange kitten, Pomagranate, promptly curled up and fell asleep in my Fiance's sweatshirt pocket when picked up, and the others mewed and were generally darling. We had to tear ourselves away.
We visited a number of times after that, and fairly quickly decided that we wanted to adopt Pomagranate, because he was the mellowest, and most inclined to sleep on us. All of the kittens love people, since they are bottle raised and don't really realize that they're NOT people, but Pom was the most affectionate.
All along, people told us "Get two." "Get two, they can keep eachother company, and a second one isn't that much more expensive." "Get two, the trouble goes down, and the cute goes up. Exponentially." I kinda wanted two, but my Fiance was adamant that we would only get one, as cost was an issue for us. On our last visit, my Fiance picked up Coconut, the smallest of the kittens from the start, and said "You look like a Desdemona." And then, shortly after, he caved, and we were getting two kittens, instead of one.
We coordinated with the Foster Mom, and found out that our kittens would have their surgery to spay and neuter them on a Wednesday, and they would be available for pickup that Thursday. Promptly at noon, when the SPCA opened, I was in there, asking about kittens. "Oh, just go in the back, and pick them out." I was told. So I went back... but where are MY kittens? They weren't there. I went back out. "Um... I was looking for two specific kittens, Coconut and Pomagranate, they were fostered by a friend of ours..." And the story unfolded. The kittens might have ringworm, and so were going to be in quarantine for at least two weeks. The woman I was talking with asked if I wanted to pick out different kittens. I wanted to ask if she was crazy! but instead, I told her that, no, we had spent a lot of time with these kittens, and wanted them, and would wait, thank you. She took my name and number and said she would call me in two weeks to let us know if they could be picked up.
Only later did it occur to me that if the kittens had ringworm, we were already pretty screwed, since we'd been petting them and handling them fairly often. Even later than that, I did some research; even if they'd had it, if we hadn't shown any signs, it was fairly likely that we were one of the majority of the population who CAN'T get it, and so we had nothing to worry about. That doesn't really matter to an organization trying not to get sued, however, so we waited two weeks.
Two Thursdays later, I was again headed over to the SPCA, just in time to arrive when they opened. My phone rang, but as I was driving, I didn't answer it. I came in, and the woman I had talked to last time smiled. "I knew you'd be coming, I just called!" She'd left our kittens in the back so nobody else would adopt them before we arrived, so she went to get them for us while we filled out paperwork. Well, more specifically, while *I* filled out paperwork. My Fiance was ok with kittens, but they were going to be MY kittens, and my responsibility. He would not be cleaning up after them or feeding them, or anything. Fair enough. So they are legally mine.
"I'm glad you waited for them" the woman said. "So many people wouldn't have." God, why not? Our kittens are amazing, and affectionate, not to mention super cute. I can't imagine the kind of person who would spend all that time getting to know a kitten and then decide not to get it, just because they needed to wait an extra two weeks. I had been waiting for several months now, a few more weeks didn't really matter to me. I was given some food, coupons for supplies, and some litter; I told her that it was fine, because I had everything already; I'd had it since two weeks prior, when I'd thought they would be coming home with us. She asked me to take it anyway, since it was part of the adoption fee, and also gave me her card; she's a cat-sitter.
Packed up with the food and paperwork in my hands, and a box full of squirming kittens in my Fiance's, we headed to the car. While I drove home, he let the kittens peek out of the top of the box, but didn't let them roam. The short drive was uneventful despite it's being so very new to the kittens.
Upon being let out of their box and into the room that had been prepared for them, our kittens went MAD. They ran in circles and inspected every single crevice of the room, pausing only briefly to purr at us and eat a little. All work ground to a halt for the day, and almost everyone I know called or dropped by to see the kittens. They were finally home, and we promptly re-named them.
The sleepy little orange tabby, formerly Pomagranate, became Ed. In a comic called Digger (www.diggercomic.com) there is a character who was outcast by his tribe in a ceremony that involved his name being eaten. He is renamed by the main character, who thinks that not having a name is silly. She calls him Ed. Since our little kitten had his name eaten by his siblings, we decided to call him Ed, after the comic character.
Desdemona, previously Coconut, got her name on the Fiance's whim, at the same time we decided to adopt her. We have a friend named Des, and we didn't want to cause confusion, so
we were going to call her Mona, but Wall-E had just come out, and my sister suggested calling her Mo and hoping she was a neat freak... and we did. And it fits her just fine.
Mo is my Little Kitty, even though she is the large of the two now, because she was the teeny-est of the six until after leaving her Foster Mom. Somehow, she got HUGE after that.
Ed is my Smaaht Kitty, because... well, he's kinda dumb. He does things that range from silly, such as hopping into the shower and then looking suprised to be wet, to the downright insane, like squeeeeeezing out a barely open window and then crying when he realized he couldn't get back in. With Twilight being all the rage, people ask if his name is Edward. It isn't, but if it were, he'd be Edward P. Dowd (although it's supposed to be Elwood), not Sparkly Edward with the bad hair. My kitty isn't Oh so smart, but he is Oh so pleasant.
And that's how these stories started, because these two are too cute not to share.
In January of 2009, we decided to get a cat. I wanted a pet, and we are often gone over the weekends to places where a pet isn't all that welcome, and so it was decided that we should get a cat, rather than a dog. Cats, as an added benefit, are much cheaper than dogs, particularly as I prefer rather large dogs. We only wanted one, as two were deemed too much expense, and probably too much trouble.
Our household is fairly busy, even though there are only two people living here. There is a business in the front room, and so we needed a cat that would be ok with lots of random people coming and going, as well as one that was ok with large groups of people, since we also often have gatherings here. Most adult cats are fairly anti-social, except in a very few cases, and most of those cases aren't given up to shelters, because they're awesome cats. So I started looking for a kitten.
In early February, there weren't very many kittens available. I checked Craigslist, and the local shelters, and even the newspaper. I started calling every single one I found, because so few of them bothered to respond. It was depressing. When I finally got a hold of a kitten rescue on the Peninsula, I was told that they couldn't work with me, because I live too far away. In bad traffic, on a bad day, I live 45 minutes away from the Peninsula. I'm willing to drive out there, meet the kitten, possibly pay $125 adoption fee, and you can't work with me because of where I live? "Well, we do home inspections before you can adopt." Ok, so figure 45 minutes, let's say an hour, to be kind, to drive here, an hour for a home tour, and an hour drive home; 3 hours, at most, of someone's time to see to it that this kitten has a good home? Alright, fine. When I saw the same kitten re-posted two weeks later like some unwanted couch from hell, I called again. I understand that we live out of your normal range, but, come ON. If you haven't found anyone yet, can't we just come out and meet with you? The answer was still no.
I am glad for how things worked out, but seriously? I think if you really had that kitten's best interest at heart, you'd have met with us, at least.
By the end of March, I'd spoken to exactly two people, total, and had no luck at all. Kitten Season is Spring and Early Summer, so my anxiety was mostly just me being silly, but it still felt a lot like we were never going to find a kitten, let alone one mellow enough to thrive in our household. After all, don't most cats no like people? I was on the verge of giving up, when one of our friends came over, and, very casually, mentioned "There are kittens at my house." Boy did I perk up!
It turns out that her housemate fosters kittens for the Berkeley SPCA, and had been doing so for many years. This particular batch of kittens had been found at roughly 6 days old, abandoned, no mother in sight. There were six of them, ranging from 94 to 134 grams YES, GRAMS, each. The heaviest one weighed about 5 ounces, or a little more than a King Size Snickers bar.
We met them four days later, just as their eyes were opening. There were three darling little orange kittens, destined to become tabbies, and three darling little black splotchy ones, destined to become tortise shells. They were far too young to have much in the way of personality, but each one had a little paper collar with a little paper nametag. They were named after fruits: Coconut, Pomagranate, Pina Colada, Guava and two others that I don't remember. An orange kitten, Pomagranate, promptly curled up and fell asleep in my Fiance's sweatshirt pocket when picked up, and the others mewed and were generally darling. We had to tear ourselves away.
We visited a number of times after that, and fairly quickly decided that we wanted to adopt Pomagranate, because he was the mellowest, and most inclined to sleep on us. All of the kittens love people, since they are bottle raised and don't really realize that they're NOT people, but Pom was the most affectionate.
All along, people told us "Get two." "Get two, they can keep eachother company, and a second one isn't that much more expensive." "Get two, the trouble goes down, and the cute goes up. Exponentially." I kinda wanted two, but my Fiance was adamant that we would only get one, as cost was an issue for us. On our last visit, my Fiance picked up Coconut, the smallest of the kittens from the start, and said "You look like a Desdemona." And then, shortly after, he caved, and we were getting two kittens, instead of one.
We coordinated with the Foster Mom, and found out that our kittens would have their surgery to spay and neuter them on a Wednesday, and they would be available for pickup that Thursday. Promptly at noon, when the SPCA opened, I was in there, asking about kittens. "Oh, just go in the back, and pick them out." I was told. So I went back... but where are MY kittens? They weren't there. I went back out. "Um... I was looking for two specific kittens, Coconut and Pomagranate, they were fostered by a friend of ours..." And the story unfolded. The kittens might have ringworm, and so were going to be in quarantine for at least two weeks. The woman I was talking with asked if I wanted to pick out different kittens. I wanted to ask if she was crazy! but instead, I told her that, no, we had spent a lot of time with these kittens, and wanted them, and would wait, thank you. She took my name and number and said she would call me in two weeks to let us know if they could be picked up.
Only later did it occur to me that if the kittens had ringworm, we were already pretty screwed, since we'd been petting them and handling them fairly often. Even later than that, I did some research; even if they'd had it, if we hadn't shown any signs, it was fairly likely that we were one of the majority of the population who CAN'T get it, and so we had nothing to worry about. That doesn't really matter to an organization trying not to get sued, however, so we waited two weeks.
Two Thursdays later, I was again headed over to the SPCA, just in time to arrive when they opened. My phone rang, but as I was driving, I didn't answer it. I came in, and the woman I had talked to last time smiled. "I knew you'd be coming, I just called!" She'd left our kittens in the back so nobody else would adopt them before we arrived, so she went to get them for us while we filled out paperwork. Well, more specifically, while *I* filled out paperwork. My Fiance was ok with kittens, but they were going to be MY kittens, and my responsibility. He would not be cleaning up after them or feeding them, or anything. Fair enough. So they are legally mine.
"I'm glad you waited for them" the woman said. "So many people wouldn't have." God, why not? Our kittens are amazing, and affectionate, not to mention super cute. I can't imagine the kind of person who would spend all that time getting to know a kitten and then decide not to get it, just because they needed to wait an extra two weeks. I had been waiting for several months now, a few more weeks didn't really matter to me. I was given some food, coupons for supplies, and some litter; I told her that it was fine, because I had everything already; I'd had it since two weeks prior, when I'd thought they would be coming home with us. She asked me to take it anyway, since it was part of the adoption fee, and also gave me her card; she's a cat-sitter.
Packed up with the food and paperwork in my hands, and a box full of squirming kittens in my Fiance's, we headed to the car. While I drove home, he let the kittens peek out of the top of the box, but didn't let them roam. The short drive was uneventful despite it's being so very new to the kittens.
Upon being let out of their box and into the room that had been prepared for them, our kittens went MAD. They ran in circles and inspected every single crevice of the room, pausing only briefly to purr at us and eat a little. All work ground to a halt for the day, and almost everyone I know called or dropped by to see the kittens. They were finally home, and we promptly re-named them.
The sleepy little orange tabby, formerly Pomagranate, became Ed. In a comic called Digger (www.diggercomic.com) there is a character who was outcast by his tribe in a ceremony that involved his name being eaten. He is renamed by the main character, who thinks that not having a name is silly. She calls him Ed. Since our little kitten had his name eaten by his siblings, we decided to call him Ed, after the comic character.
Desdemona, previously Coconut, got her name on the Fiance's whim, at the same time we decided to adopt her. We have a friend named Des, and we didn't want to cause confusion, so
we were going to call her Mona, but Wall-E had just come out, and my sister suggested calling her Mo and hoping she was a neat freak... and we did. And it fits her just fine.
Mo is my Little Kitty, even though she is the large of the two now, because she was the teeny-est of the six until after leaving her Foster Mom. Somehow, she got HUGE after that.
Ed is my Smaaht Kitty, because... well, he's kinda dumb. He does things that range from silly, such as hopping into the shower and then looking suprised to be wet, to the downright insane, like squeeeeeezing out a barely open window and then crying when he realized he couldn't get back in. With Twilight being all the rage, people ask if his name is Edward. It isn't, but if it were, he'd be Edward P. Dowd (although it's supposed to be Elwood), not Sparkly Edward with the bad hair. My kitty isn't Oh so smart, but he is Oh so pleasant.
And that's how these stories started, because these two are too cute not to share.
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