In case you missed it on Friday…
Axle went home Friday afternoon! I delivered him myself, and I will tell you what – that is one confident boy. He stomped around that house, followed by his new big brother Samson, and I don’t think he had one moment of doubt or fear. And he settled in wonderfully!
Here he is Saturday:
And here he is on Sunday!
How wonderful is that? SO wonderful!
(Thank you, Lisa!)
To answer the question: YES Fred is the one who declared we needed a fostering break and when I told him it was over, he accepted it gracefully. A “foster break” is one of those things that sounds like a better idea than it is, I think, and this house just doesn’t feel right without fosters in it.
Note: I had decided to use “The PrairieCats” as the name for this litter, but then Brigitte came along and said:
Wait for it.
Caroline. And Her (get ready…)
::crowd goes wild!!!::
::high fives in the direction of the Canadian border!!!::
::fist bumps::fist bumps all around::
And I could not deny how absolutely perfect that is, so Caroline and the Half Pints it is – though I may just go with The Half Pints to make it easier to tag everything (Instagram, Flickr, etc.)
A lot of people have asked what the father of Caroline’s kittens looks like. He’s a big sweet brown tabby and white, his name is Charles (I mean, obviously!) and he looks like this.
Also like this. Left side:
He’s about 18 months old, and yes – he’s here keeping Caroline company in the foster room.
Several people did ask if we had him here with us, and AT THAT TIME (Friday morning and afternoon) we didn’t, so when I said no, it wasn’t a lie. I just didn’t expand upon the answer, which was that he was still at the shelter being neutered, and was going to come to us afterward.
When Michelle told me Thursday evening that she was pretty sure Charles and Caroline were bonded (a belief bolstered by her conversation with the woman who surrendered them), I told her I’d give it a try, but I don’t mind telling y’all that I was nervous. I worried that the reintroduction wouldn’t go well, but I also wanted to get him in that room with her as soon as possible so that they could reacquaint themselves and settle in before the kittens come.
I picked him up Friday evening and we took him into the foster room still in the carrier. Caroline hopped down and came right over, we opened the door to the carrier, Charles poked his head out, they sniffed noses… and then they hissed at each other.
Caroline wanted nothing – NOTHING – to do with him (I’m sure he still smelled very much like the vet).
He’s quite a bit bigger than she is – she weighs 6 pounds, and he weighs 10 pounds, 12 ounces. He’s a big boy, and she’s a tiny thing, and I worried that he’d bully her or be mean to her or attack her.
What he did was follow her around, sniffing sniffing sniffing, and she would hiss, growl, and smack at him, and he’d draw back and look offended. He’d wait a minute, then start following her around again.
We talked about separating them for the night and then trying again in the morning, but it was very clear that she wasn’t scared of him and that he would back off when she told him to. Fred promised to check on them first thing in the morning, and we went to bed.
Saturday morning Charles was still following her around sniffing at her, and while she was occasionally growling at him, she wasn’t doing it nearly as much or with as much heat as she had the night before.
By Sunday morning they were eating off the same plate, occasionally licking each other on the head, and playing together. I still haven’t spotted them snuggled up together, but I suspect that time is coming. They’re mostly sleeping in separate places – he likes the pie plate in front of the window, she likes sleeping on the blue cat tree. They’ve both checked out the birthin’ crate.
Charles wishes he’d sprung for the two-seater. (That’s a joke – there’s actually a second litter box on the other side of the closet, but these two enjoy using the litter box together. I don’t know what that’s about, but you do you, ya goofy cats.)
He is great big lovable goofball, and if you flip him onto his back and hold him like a baby, he purrs and purrs.
Despite the fact that she’s practically half his size, there’s no doubt who’s got the upper paw in this relationship. He hangs back and lets her eat first, backs off when she tells him to, and lets her tell him when it’s time to play. I’ll be interested to see how this all goes when the kittens are born, but I honestly don’t think he’s going to be a problem (and also think he’s going to be good company for her while we’re waiting.)
As for Caroline and whether she’s actually pregnant – I believe she is. Her belly has already gotten visibly larger and she’s waddling when she walks. It doesn’t show up that great in pictures yet, but I’m hoping to get a better picture of it soon.
Oh, that boy. Saturday we were watching TV and as is his way, Khal came stomping into the room 10 seconds after I sat on the couch. He snuggled up to me, and I petted him, and I whispered “Are you da baybeee?” and he thought about it for a moment and he let the smallest, softest little meow to let me know that he thinks he might, indeed, be the baybee, but he’s not entirely sure yet so shhhhhh, don’t tell anyone yet.
2018: No entry.
2017: No entry.
2016: He’s all “My Queen!”
2015: No entry.
2014: Tricki thinks my slippers need some bunny-kicking.
2013: “HOW did I get up here? HOW do I get down? Oh, WOE, I don’t WANT to live up here forever!”
2012: No entry.
2011: The kneading paws KILL ME DEAD. Is that one happy kitten or what?
2010: “Who, ME?”
2009: Samba and Rumba.
2008: She is such a SWEET girl!
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.