Thursday, July 30, 2009

A Visit From The Stork

The family reunion was this weekend, and it actually went very well. No major issues and everyone put on a happy face and avoided ripping heads off.

So on Friday I was packing my things to get ready for the weekend. We were scheduled to leave my house when Hillary got here from work (a 2 hour drive for her) and then be on our way, taking separate cars because there wasn't enough room in one car for everything. I get a phone call from Hillary half-way through the day saying that one of the feral cats at school (Hillary works at our college now) had kittens and the maintenance staff was giving them away. So I called my mother to see if we could bring one home, if and only if she could look after the kitten until January and we would bring the kitten to the apartment with us when I got back from London. The madre agreed, so Hillary went and got a kitten.

Possibly the worst mistake of our lives, though also the cutest investment ever. This was the tiniest kitten I had ever held. She is a calico, who loves to run around like a banshee and things fingers and toes are the coolest chew toys ever. We took her to the vet on Monday and they determined that she was between 6-8 weeks old, so the bottle we had been feeding her every 2-4 hours since Friday evening was unnecessary (she seemed to really enjoy the bottle though).

We didn't get very much sleep at all the first few nights with her in her pink rubbermade bin complete with blanket and catnip mouse. She wanted to be fed, then she wanted to play, then she wanted to go to the bathroom and then she wanted to sleep, but she wanted to sleep on our chests. So we took her to the vet and they determined her age and told us what we should be feeding her, so we started her on a wet food/formula combo in a bowl and she took to it pretty much right away. I put her in a litterbox that same day and she did her business in the litterbox immediately, she's so damn smart.

Little did we know that when the vets gave her the de-wormer (fearing that, since her mom was a feral cat, she would have worms and fleas and earmites) she would have explosive diarreah for two days straight. She actually didn't have worms, she was just bloated with a big baby belly, and she didn't have fleas or ear mites either. She got a clean bill of health and she is a perfectly healthy and happy little kitten.

At this point, she is eating dry food and loving it, drinking water by itself (finally!) and going in the litterbox to do her business instead of all over the cat carrier where she sleeps. Right now she is attacking my laptop. It'll be sad to leave her in September, just like it will be sad to leave my cat and my dog and my rabbits. Hopefully she will quickly be able to defend herself against my five cats, the dog loves cats and will probably just lick her and annoy the hell out of her.

In January, she can move into the apartment with Hillary and I and we can be a happy little family. The kitten, whose name is Julie Andrews (as my six year old niece exclaimed when I explained who Julie Andrews is: "Fraulein Maria!") will be spayed probably sometime in midwinter, she'll be an indoor cat and she'll never be declawed as long as I have a say in the matter because small animals need a way to defend themselves. Hopefully she'll be a good pest-hunter in the new apartment.







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