Speaking of wild, black creatures, invading our happy little home….
Erm, oops! How’d that happen?!
Last Friday was a rainy day, and I had absolutely nothing on the calendar for entertaining the Pepperlings. Whilst spooning Chocolate Cheerios into Henry’s mouth, I idly checked Facebook to see if there was anything fun going down that we might be able to join in on.
Which is when I spotted this post for “Kitten Weekend” at the Seattle Humane Society. Wa-hay! I figured the place would be full of kittens, and full of families looking for kittens, and we could treat it like a day at the petting zoo. Well, okay, that’s the official line. Unofficially…I may have chucked our cat carrier in the back of the car. Just in case.
Incidentally, I had checked with my husband that morning that it would be OK to get a cat. Sort of. I think the conversation might have gone a little like this:
Me: So….it would be OK if we went and looked at puppies today, right?
Weary Husband: No! NO DOGS!!
Me: But, I want a Springer Spaniel – I need a running buddy!
WH: No!! We can barely look after the dog we already have!
Me: <Sigh….>. Okaaaaaay. Oh, look, it’s half price kitten weekend at the Humane Society!
WH: Oh, well, OK, a cat……
I’m right to hear that as “Yes, let’s absolutely get a new cat!”, right?
I must admit, I have been hankering after a cuddly pal for a while. Milo, our neurotic labrador, is just not a super affectionate dog. I don’t know why, but he’s just not one of those “lie on your feet and gaze at you adoringly” kind of labs. And Monty, the adventurous Ragdoll cat, prefers to spend his evenings hunting frogs and taking his chances with the backyard bears. With the Pepperlings in bed, and the husband at work most nights for the last 18 months (at least!), I’m finding my looong evenings to be more than a little on the lonesome side, lately. So, shoot me – I want a snuggle buddy to crash on the sofa watching crappy TV with!
AND, a trip to the Humane Society would give the children something fun to do – double bonus!
So, I asked Evie if she wanted to go and look at kittens, to which she replied “No, I want to CUDDLE them!”. Who am I to argue with that!?
When we arrived and piled out of the car, Evie picked up a giant leaf that had fallen in the parking lot. She insisted that I put it in Henry’s stroller and looked after it carefully, because it was sad. Okay, then. I think she may be taking this “humane” thing too far, but, well aware of the futility of arguing with a 3 year old, we carefully preserved that leaf as we walked in.
There were 8 cages in the foyer, filled with kittens. About 18 kittens in total. Apparently that’s not many – they were expecting a “huge intake” the following morning. Several cats were already spoken for, and a few were “bonded pairs”. I knew that I’d be pushing my luck, bringing two cats home on a whim, so we started looking at the 8 or so cats that were still available to us. And this is where Evie’s genius leaf came in. The perfect kitten toy! She took that leaf and ran it along the outside of all those cages. A lot of the cats totally ignored her, but a certain pair of crazed little black
felons felines were mad fer it. 4 tiny black paws (and 20 razor sharp claws) came swiping out between those bars, desperate to play. Evie shrieked and squealed in delight, and even Henry was completely mesmerised. Much as I was leaning towards the cute looking grey tabbies and tortoiseshell beauties, Evie would not be swayed – she wanted THIS ONE!
I had my misgivings. He was a stray, picked up on the streets, with no history, no character reference, and no manners. He was a little black scrap of a thing – all spindly legs, stinky bum and big yellow eyes. But my dear girl was resolute! So much so, that she renamed him. Filbert no more….from now on, thou shalt be known as “Cutie Pie”.
I’m sorry, puddy tat, I really am.
It turns out that Evie is a far better judge of character than I am! That cat came home with us (wailing all the way!) and as soon as I let him out of the carrier, he climbed into my lap, lay down and started purring….and he hasn’t stopped since.
Yes, his claws may be like little razor blades, and yes, we may all have the scars to show for it, but he’s only trying to climb our legs to get that bit closer for a cuddle. After less than a week, our crazy little kitten is very much a part of the Pepper clan already. Welcome to the madhouse, Cutie Pie. And good luck!