Saturday, September 10, 2011 <——– The day I accidentally became a pet owner. [I think]
April, Nicholas and I were sitting on my back porch when we started hearing some serious meowing. At first, I thought it was a cat fight. Then maybe a cat in heat. Then we giggled for 3 minutes, when we thought the noise was coming from two cats, who love each other very much. An hour later when a few more friends had joined us on the porch, the meowing continued, and someone suggested that perhaps there was a cat locked in a shed or something. “We have to rescue it!” I looked to April who reminded me that a charge of breaking & entering, or at the least trespassing, may not be the way to go. Just then, the meowing started to get louder, which my brilliance decided was closer.
When we shined some lights down towards the ground in the driveway, we saw the tiniest black kitten. It took me a minute to realize how small the kitten was; “That cat is WAY too small to be in heat.” Nicholas and I ran down stairs to check if the kitten was okay.
The thing about Nicholas [there are several things about Nicholas, of course, but for the sake of time, let’s stay with just this one ;)] is that “animals love him.” When we first started talking in May, our friend Emma’s daughter Kaylee was talking to me about him, and listing off all the things she liked about him. [This may or may not have been her 9-year-old attempt at matchmaking, truly.] “He’s nice. He’s smart. He’s funny. He has long hair and animals love him.” It’s true – the kitten approached Nicholas first, and within a few minutes, we were taking the little guy upstairs to give him some water and temporary shelter. It was clear to us both that he hadn’t eaten in a bit of time, and although he was clearly scared at first, he was very friendly and approached both of us without a problem.
By the time we reached the kitchen, feeding the cat some organic Stoneyfield milk [thanks HLS swagbag coupons 😉 ] we had already discussed that he would be staying at my apartment for one night. It was almost midnight, and there was no way we were letting the little guy stay outside meowing in fear all night.
Then we started playing pass the kitten. Nicholas held the kitten. I held the kitten. KJ, and Kevin, and April, and Alex, and the other Nicholas held the kitten. It seemed we were all in love with the kitten. It wasn’t too long after that I got out a few resources. We had already been Googling for information on what age the kitten may be [Nicholas and I both guessed 2-4 months due to our past kitten raising experiences] and tips and tricks for good immediate care. I made a bed with old blankets and pillows in a woven basket of adorable and the kitten was really seeming to be enjoying his time at my apartment.
“I’m leaving for Gettysburg in the morning. I am trying to be reasonable here.” They all just looked at me. “I am not committing to this kitten until Wednesday. Right now this is a maybe kitten.”
I’m not sure if my friends believed me, especially after I started a list of things we needed to acquire and got to work on name selection. I took a handful of Presidential fun fact books out to the deck and we discussed possibilities. KJ liked Coolidge. He was rather noisy, so I thought Harrison would be fitting, giving that William Henry Harrison died before his 32 day of office after giving the longest inaugural address in POTUS history, catching a cold which turned to pneumonia, granting him the legacy of wordy, rambly, and talkative. When we thought the kitten may be female, Nicholas convinced me of Eleanor pretty quickly, but I also toyed with Reagan. Alex was plugging for Jimmy, after Carter, and Bobby after Presidential hopeful, Kennedy. There was a lot of discussion and a lot of debate.
Nicholas pointed out that the cat talked his way into our lives, and being a smooth talker, Clinton would be appropriate. After the cat just jumped into my bed like he belonged there, it was pretty much a done deal. Throughout the night and the next morning, I was still undecided. [just call me, Florida.] So, I decided to present the kitten with a short list [by way of flash cards] and gave him the opportunity to choose his own name between Wilson, Hayes, Grover, Clinton, and George.
Things needed to be done, of course. Asking the neighbors if it belonged to anyone, for one. Bath, flee meds, food, water, a trip to the vet, and lots and lots of cuddling. Of course, Nicholas was more than willing to be caregiver for the next few days while I was out of town. He’s taking care of everything the little guy needs while I’m away.
Before I left for the airport, of course we had to get our play on, too. I took out some ribbon, a few hair ties, and remembered a tip from my good friend Cody.
Let’s see how this goes. You know, once I decide if I’m keeping him. I have until Wednesday, right? To decide how I feel about him. The cat I’ve already named. And allowed to sleep in my bed the first night I met him. [I’m such a hussy ;)]