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The Great Kitten Fiasco of 2009

  • Posted on November 12, 2009 at 1:18 pm

My father has hated cats for as long as I’ve known him. I found out that early in his marriage to my mom that they had a cat, but that was the last cat he ever liked. When I was little, I begged and begged and begged until he finally let me have one–only because it was free and under the condition that it be an outside cat. That was during Kindergarten when I was still cute enough to get my way with a minimal amount of eyelash batting.

I had a 50/50 chance of pulling the girl out of the free kitten cage, so in a twist of fate, that’s exactly what I did. For about the next twenty years, my mom had to keep feeding the cats and kittens and kittens-of-those-kittens out her back door. Finally, she was able to catch the main female responsible for all the kittens and have her spayed and the number of cats showing up at the door has dwindled off to none.

That was my first kitten.

My second kitten was Skimble, an all white boy who was far too curious for his own good. One day, the door to outside didn’t latch properly and he snuck out. We saw him in the “wilderness” surrounding the townhouses every now and then, but he would never come close enough to be captured. Thank goodness I had gotten him neutered so I didn’t need to worry about him causing anymore kittens. That was four years ago.

Then kitten itch returned. I’ve discovered that my M.O. when making decisions is to waffle, waffle, waffle, but when I finally Make the Decision, it is Made and Must Be Done ™. Thus, I decided it was time for me to have another kitten.

I must have asked Pete about sixty million times if it was okay if I adopted a kitten. Even though he said yes every time, I knew that the Pud (who is Pete’s cat) would not approve. We figured it out and she’s thirteen and a half years old, even though she doesn’t look a day over seven. At any rate, she didn’t like Skimble, so the chances of her approving of a new baby were slim to none, but Pete said I could, so last Saturday we went off to the SPCA.

First we went to the adoption center in Philadelphia where they had no kittens available for adoption even though the website said they did. Since that didn’t pan out, we attempted plan two which was to drive to the Delaware County SPCA. They had kittens. Many kittens. Oodles of kittens. For some reason, that SPCA always has a lot of kittens–I think it’s because it’s such a rural location that there must be a lot of barn cats and outdoor cats that show up with kittens.

At any rate, I picked out a cute little tuxedo kitten with the name “Daisy” on the cage. Unfortunately, they couldn’t get in touch with Pud’s vet to verify that she was up-to-date on her shots, so we couldn’t take the kitten home. Boo, hiss.

On Sunday, I got a phone call that Daisy had a kitty cold and had to be put in isolation. Poor kitten! On Tuesday, I got a call that the SPCA had called the vet and Pud was not up to date on her shots…so I called the vet and made an appointment for her at five o’clock on Wednesday. I tried to call back the SPCA and see what would have to happen in order to bring the little tuxedo home, but no one answered.

I called them on Wednesday and was told that my hold on the kitten was expired because Pud didn’t have her shots, and there was another person interested in her, so if I wanted her, I needed to come that day.

I’ll admit it. I cried a little.

Then swoops in Pete to the rescue. One of the things that most frustrates me about the boy, but also makes me love him more is that he is slow to act, but when you light the fire under him, he Gets Things Done ™. As such, he told me that I would go be at the SPCA at five and HE would take his cat to the vet. Then, the SPCA could call as Pud was getting up to date on her shots and TA DA, kitten would be mine. I sniffled and said that was okay.

The time came and I drove down to the SPCA, picking up CAM! on the way. We hung out in the cattery for a while because it was before five. I decided we had to wait until Pud’s appointment before I tried to explain everything to the SPCA people. While we were in the cattery, I found a cute little grey tabby kitten named “Sweety” who was just too adorable. I picked her up and my heart was torn. I couldn’t have both kittens, but…aww…

I went to the front desk to get everything straightened out. The woman who helped me (whose name I can’t remember) called the vet and my apartment complex to verify everything was alright with them. Thus, my application was approved. So, I asked if there was someone else interested in the little tuxedo kitten as I’m a sucker for little girls who Really Wanted That Kitten or some other sob story…and the little grey kitten made me all gooey on the insides.

Turns out that the people who wanted to adopt Daisy had already adopted her sister (who was also in the cage with her on Saturday), and they wanted to keep the siblings together. So it was with a lighter heart that I decided to adopt Sweety instead.

Then I found out that I had forgotten my wallet at home, hence I had no ID. Luckily for me, they accepted an expired driver’s license I had in my car plus my car registration. Go me! Go Delco SPCA! Woo!

I’ve renamed her Hallelujah, for which I got teased by CAM! They may be a post of kitten pictures later. :)

And the Pud is DEFINITELY not happy. She went all hissy and is now in a bit of a sulk. First, there was the indignity of being taken to the vet and given shots, then she comes home and a new baby has arrived. She wouldn’t even sleep near Pete last night. Yep. A bit of a sulk.

A Difference of Opinion

  • Posted on August 10, 2009 at 9:13 am

The way people live their lives depends fully on their point of view of a situation. For example, there’s my point of view, and then there’s the point of view of the cat with whom I live, Pud. For example…

The Upstairs Hallway
My Point of View: a conveinent way to get from my bedroom/the stairs to the bathroom or my roommate’s bedroom
Pud’s Point of View: prime napping real estate, but only if laying in the exact middle of the carpet

The Windowsill in My Bedroom
My POV: a place to put the extraneous things I was working on
Pud’s POV: strategic planning perch for potential world domination

My Roommate’s Desk
My POV: the place where Pete keeps his monitor
Pud’s POV: the best place to be when Pete is sitting at his desk

The Red Chair in the Living Room
My POV: a cute red chair I bought at IKEA
Pud’s POV: the best scratching post EVAR

My Bed
My POV: where I sleep at night or nap during the day
Pud’s POV: moar prime napping real estate, but only when Ama wants to use it

The Bathroom Sink
My POV: a place where I can brush my teeth and wash my hands/face
Pud’s POV: meow-activated water dispensing unit

The Kitchen
My POV: where I cook dinner
Pud’s POV: leg rubbing-activated food room

Despite these differences, though, I do love her. She has the loudest purr of any cat I’ve ever met; in fact, that’s how my roommate picked her–she was the littlest kitten in the box, but had the biggest purr out of all of them.