Tori volunteers for a spay and neuter
center in town, and about six weeks ago she brought home Jane, a kitten we were going to foster. Everyone thought, "Oho! You're
in for it now John. You've got a cat."
No, no I don't. This is better.
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| Jane Austen |
Tori named her Jane Austen, although
you know about cat names. No matter what we think a cat's name is,
we're wrong. She was about 8 ounces of fluff and orange dryer lint.
She'd been found on a path in a swamp, so she was kind of scruffy,
but a cute little thing.
Over the next three weeks we fed her
and fattened her up, took her in for her shots and neutering, played
with her, medicated her eye infection, shared the computer with her
(she loved to jump up on the keyboard and "help" me write,)
cleared up her ear mites, and took her back so that someone could
adopt her.
That same day Tori came home with
another kitten, Lucy. Hard to describe her – not quite black fur,
because she has this sort of peachy/orange undercoat, and a peach
streak that runs down the right side of her nose which gives it an
odd effect. I'd have named her Schnoz, or Durante, if anyone had
asked me, which they didn't.
We were told she needed some
discipline, she was unruly, attacked and bit and was unsociable.
Goodie. She had been found as a kitten on a boat, and was not at all
happy with the change in accommodations.
When she came in, she was naturally
skittish, and a little bitey, as kittens will be. But within a few
hours she was out and exploring.
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| Lucy |
She turns out to be the sweetest kitten
I've ever seen. I'm not a cat-fan, so I may not be the best judge, but she's pretty sweet. Except when she's doing the
manic-kitten-running-around-the-house routine, which she does for
about half an hour in the morning and again in the afternoon, all she
wants is for you to hold her while she purrs. If you sit on the couch
or recliner, she'll end up on your lap – well no, not your lap. She
starts there, then works her way up until she has her head wedged
under your jaw – and just purrs for the next hour or so.
So last week Jane got adopted, but the
family doesn't want to pick her up until Christmas Eve. The spay
center needs the space, and she's awfully cute so people kept asking
if they could adopt her. The center asked Tori is she could come back
here.
I took Lucy down and swapped her out
for Jane. Lucy was not happy, growling as I put her in her cage –
which was clean and full of food and kitty litter. I brought Jane
home and she acted as if she'd never left.
The next day the center called and said
Lucy was having trouble, she flat out hated everything about being
there, hissed and howled and wouldn't let anyone touch her. So she
came back here.
At first she and Jane hated each other.
There was much howling and growling and stalking and hiding, staking
out territory. That lasted about three hours. Now they get along
fine, chase each other playfully, share the various toys and food
bowls. Their favorite thing to do is wait until Tori sits on the
recliner, then both jump into her lap and spend the next hour
sleeping on her. They've done it to me too, but Tori's their
favorite.
But now it's Christmas Eve. Time for
Jane to go to her new home. It's a family with two little girls who
will love her, and name her Mittens or Muffin or Whiskers or
something, and have tea parties with her and all that stuff. She'll
be a happy cat.
Lucy is more problematic. We've put her
up on the spay center's Facebook page, because she just can't abide
the center. Hopefully we'll be able to get her adopted that way. All
she needs is a place where she's comfortable and she'll be the
sweetest cat you'd ever want. So we live in hope.
We like the idea of fostering kittens
for a few weeks, helping them get acclimated and find a home. That
way we get all the fun of a kitten without having the long-term
commitment of a "cat" and all that entails.
We'll see how it goes.
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