Kitty godmother

Saturday, 11:08 pm

By Kate

Jan

03

2009

This afternoon, a friend called and said that the feline rescue association had just called to let her know they were, momentarily, receiving two litters of 10 week old kittens. She was now at the top of the waiting list, so should plan on arriving ASAP to choose her kitten. She was so excited—and wondered if I’d like to go along.

Kittens? Count me in! I love kittens. To look at. Not in the market for a kitten.

On the way over, we discussed her expectations, which, I thought, were a little high. This was her first cat of any age and she really doesn’t know quite what to expect. But she has been taken in by all the photos of cozy little kitties that she’s seen over the years. I told her that cats are pretty independent and, though it will eventually love her, it will probably never be cuddly on her terms. It will be cuddly on its terms, even when those terms come at the most inconvenient and inopportune times. That’s a cat for ya. I don’t think she heard a word of it.

Anyway. We arrived at the feline rescue place and inside were four of the prettiest little kittens. One was white with gray spots (female) and the other three (males) ranged from light gray to dark charcoal gray. She fell in love with the little medium gray fellow. Cute, cute, cute. And full of energy. And curiosity. And not in the least interested in being held. Mostly he wanted to play with his litter mates.

The Feline Rescue woman placed him in a cardboard carry box and off we went to pick up the rest of the necessary supplies—food, litter, litter pan, scratching post, and at least one interesting toy.

When we arrived at her house, her college-age son and his girlfriend were there along with her husband and other adult son. The little kitten took one look at the assemblage and dived under the sofa. And there he stayed until everyone grew bored waiting for him to come out. Everyone drifted away except for the new kitty mama. I went home, too.

A couple of hours later, my phone rang.

“He’s still under the sofa,” she said. “I’m reaching the point where I think this was a huge mistake.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because he doesn’t like me.”

“He doesn’t know you. It has nothing to do with like or dislike.”

“I wanted a cuddly kitten.”

He will be cuddly when he gets to know you. Give him some time.”

“Well, it’s just not what I expected.”

“Okay...let’s look at this from the kitty’s perspective. This was the worst day of his entire life. He was taken away from his mother and his brothers and sister. And on top of all that, he was stuck with a sharp needle by a strange woman who then lopped off his bits. Now he’s in your home where nothing looks familiar and nothing smells familiar. He’s lonely and scared and he probably hurts a little bit. And there are a lot of tall strangers trying to grab him. Give him a chance to chill for a couple of days. He’ll grow curious eventually and come out, when he’s convinced that it’s safe. He really has had a horrific day. Give him a break.”

That seemed to help. We’ll see what tomorrow brings.

The lad asked me, “Are you prepared to adopt a kitten?”

“Well, if it comes to that, I suppose I would. He is awfully cute and I am his godmother.”

“Uh-huh,” he said.

Yeah well. I have hopes this will all work out in the next couple of days. It’s a new experience for both of them. They’ll figure it out. I hope.