I was preparing to get into the shower yesterday morning, and I heard Fred come upstairs and down the hallway. There was a pause, and then a knock.
I opened the door and said “What?”
Fred found himself a feral kitten. Going out into the back yard, he saw something dart from next to our fence to the massive boxwood bush a few feet away. The neighbor who was in his back yard practicing his fishing technique, told Fred that he thought it was a rabbit. Fred thought about just going out to do his chores, but his innate nosiness overcame him, and he went to investigate.
He had to do some chasing before he caught the little guy, who fought and hissed and growled like a good little feral. Fred put him in a carrier and then came up to get me. I took my shower (come on, I had hair color on my head and needed to rinse it out!) and then went downstairs to check out the situation. In the carrier on the front porch was a little guy, voraciously eating the canned food Fred had given him.
He had fleas (I put Advantage on him), he’s got the big round belly that usually indicates worms, and he desperately needs a bath, but all in all he seems to be in pretty good shape. But this morning with the help of Gerber Chicken and Gravy (which is like crack to kittens), not only did he let me pet him, he stood on my leg and kneaded, and then he rolled over and presented the belly for rubbing.
At the moment he’s not in the house, but once he’s been tested (which he will be in a few hours), we’ll bring him in. Or maybe we won’t – the shelter manager might have a lead on a foster home for him. We’re not going to name him just yet – if he goes to another home, his new foster parents can name him. (Annnnnd, not ten seconds after I wrote that, Fred informed me that he’d like to raise this guy ’til he’s ready to be adopted. I… guess we have a new foster!)
He’s a boy, a brown and white tabby, and initially I thought he was 7 or 8 weeks old, but this morning I weighed him and he’s just over a pound, so maybe 5 weeks old? I don’t know, I’m terrible at aging kittens. In any case he eats well, he’s lively, and he even played with a toy mouse briefly this morning.
I suspect there’s a mother and/ or more feral kittens out there somewhere, but we both went all over the property yesterday morning looking, and found nothing at all. We’ll have to wait and see.
I guess this is the year of the stray for us!
Los Gatitos are doing well, their first weekend here. They spent a lot of time sleeping (they had their first vaccination Friday night, which always knocks them out for a day or two), and I could hear them up there playing, and they spent plenty of time keeping a wary eye on me. Sofia and Pancho were the first to break and come to me for petting.
People have asked whether any of these kittens are deaf. Initially we thought that Hermano (the blue-eyed boy) was because he wasn’t responding to any of the noises I was making. However, on Saturday he was sleeping, and I rattled a toy behind his head. He woke up and turned around to look, so he’s got at least some hearing.
The rest of them appear to hear just fine, too.
Four nights ago, I hit my limit. After being woken up every half hour by marauding Bookworms, I decided I’d HAD it. The next night, we put the Bookworms in the guest bedroom and shut the door. There were some puzzled meows, but they were quiet all night.
I got a great night’s sleep.
And now at night, the Bookworms go into the guest bedroom, and I sleep most of the night through without cats climbing all over me.
I find that when I get a good night’s sleep, I can put up with the daily cat-related annoyances a lot more calmly than I do when I’m sleep deprived. Go figure!
2009: No entry.
2008: No entry.
2007: Maryanne has a hissy fit. Tommy does not care.
2006: No entry.
2005: No entry.