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Brothers from a different mother

Can I get a d’awwwww? I took this picture a couple of minutes ago, and it’s a first.

We coaxed Jack into the same room as the baby, finally, about a month ago.

This was all made easier because Jack is an absolute pig and kitten food is fatty and delicious. We’ve tried to keep him off the food bowl, but he’s a crafty boy. And visibly fatter.

Then came the playfighting. Poor Jack. Kitten ran him ragged. But, hey — kitten food.

This started as a playfight and turned into a mutual nap. It’s adorbs.

Charlotte is at the other end of the house.

September 24, 2018 — 9:12 pm
Comments: 13

This little scrap of feline DNA…

This little one showed not the slightest inclination to roam, right up until two hours ago when he made a dash for freedom. I just side-glanced a streak of black and white leaping over Charlotte and pounding up the garden path in the dark.

I think he would have come back, but every time I put his kitten glop out to lure him in, the other two made a grab for it. Adult cats love kitten food; it’s super rich.

I might be out there still, but Jack made a screaming lunge for the baby (taking him for an intruder) and drove him up a tree.

Phew. Running late. Hope you guys had an excellent weekend.

August 27, 2018 — 10:04 pm
Comments: 12

Progress report

We’re doing fine, thanks. Growing and getting bolder. But there’s an unforeseen snag.

When we explained to the cat rescue people that one of our cats was crazy territorial and aggressive (that would be Mad Jack), they said the thing to do was leave kitten in his cage in a central location. Eventually the other cats would get used to the smell and sight of him and decide he’s no danger.

We got through the initial meeting. There was some hissing, maybe even a growl from the adult cats. Baby trilling and meowing and purring and wanting to make friends in the worst way.

After that…the old cats simply refuse to come into the room with him. It’s the living room…the place we all usually hang out. Even the two grownup cats who hate each other obey a truce in the living room. But now they’re hanging out in the back room or upstairs or outside and refuse to deal with the little one at all.

They’ve gone on strike.

He badly needs to come out of that cage and leap around and do kitten things, but we simply cannot trust Jack until we see them together more.

What do?

August 16, 2018 — 9:32 pm
Comments: 18

Settling in nicely

Forgive bad cellphone pic; the phone doesn’t make a scary noise when it takes a snapshot.

We’re doing fine, fine. No hostility. I might get a gentle hiss and a little flinch first thing in the morning, but he soon turns into a cuddle-bug.

Likes: chicken, tuna, string, giant stinky dumps.
Dislikes: loud sounds and sudden movements.

I’ll keep you posted.

July 30, 2018 — 8:32 pm
Comments: 14

The exact moment I got bit…

Well, the exact moment after the exact moment I got bit. The next photo is me with a bloody thumb and puss looking radiantly innocent. To be fair, he wasn’t going for me (that time). I was feeding him off my fingers and he got confused.

Yes. We have a new cat. Maybe. Let me tell the story.

We were sitting in the livingroom last night, front door open, trying to catch a breeze and this…kitten walked in. Took one look at me, squeaked and ran off.

We called around, but none of the neighbors had a new cat. This is the country; sub-humans sometimes dump kittens or pregnant mothers. We set a squirrel trap baited with kitty glop and caught him about noon today.

He’s pretty feral. I let him out of the trap in the bathroom and he flipped out. Eventually I caught him and got bit and scratched and hissed at for my trouble. But he calmed right down when presented with food. Amazing how that works.

We took him to a local cat rescue this afternoon, where they pronounced him healthy and probably tameable. They loaned us a big cage and a tiny litter box and we’ll see.

A few may remember the Story of Charlotte, a tiny black and white feral kitten I trapped in a squirrel trap during a heat wave sixteen years ago. History really needn’t repeat itself so exactly.

She’s met him. She sniffed the box he was in, hissed at it twice and sauntered off. It’s all down to Jack. There’s something wrong with that boy and he flips his shit if another cat comes in the yard. I mean scary loses it. If he loses it over this kitten, there’s no option. We’ll have to find another option.

July 27, 2018 — 9:10 pm
Comments: 21

It is too hot to cat…

Not one of ours. We went to an open day at a cat sanctuary yesterday. Not the very posh one we like best — they hardly ever have an open day — but one that serves London and so is very well attended.

It was very hot (still!), so we saw a lot of loose, floppy cats. They were happy enough, though.

I had to pat Uncle B down afterwards to make sure there weren’t a couple in his pockets. Jack would probably cope, but Charlotte would murder him in his sleep.

July 23, 2018 — 8:38 pm
Comments: 10

Mmmm…my favorite!

That there is Maya the jaguar, star of a recent BBC documentary. Don’t know if they played it over your way. She was a leetle orphling keeten in the show. Not so little now.

And the thing she’s licking? A blood popsicle! Mmmmm!

It rarely gets above mid 80s here. When it gets there, it rarely stays for long. We rarely go a week without rain. But we’ve had weeks and weeks of drought and a couple of weeks of hot. It even stayed hot at night the last few, an unheard of thing.

Everything is yellow and dry. The chickens are panting like dogs. There is no end in sight.

I mean, it ain’t Baton Rouge in August hot (why the hell did we always go visit Grandma in August?), but it’s hot. I’d forgotten how much I hate hot.

July 2, 2018 — 10:21 pm
Comments: 9

Face panties! For your cat!

Just something I found while I was looking for something else on eBay. Straight from China!

They’re supposed to protect you while you groom or otherwise do things to your cat.

I dunno. Every cat I’ve ever known, presented with one of these, would flip out and run backwards screaming. And, some fine Summer’s night when you least expect it, murder you in your sleep.

Hello and welcome to the second week in June.

June 11, 2018 — 8:05 pm
Comments: 11

She found herself a little patch of sun…

They predicted rain all weekend long, and they were wrong. For a few hours, gloriously wrong. Sun, lambs, chickens…it’s here at last.

Of course, they predicted dry and cloudy today and it pissed all over me on the way home, so bad forecast giveth and bad forecast taketh away.

In this country, you’re better off just looking out the window.

April 9, 2018 — 9:38 pm
Comments: 12

And then the vet laughed at his ear hair

earhair

Jack got beat up again this weekend. He came in with blood on his legs, but the wounds were small, he wasn’t limping and he didn’t seem distressed. I didn’t think much of it. Boy stuff.

An hour later, he gets up from his nap and drags his broken body across the floor like he’d been run over by a Buick. Which is now what I thought had happened. Internal bleeding, whispers the displaced maternal instinct.

We took him to the vet, who decided it was cat bites (and no internal bleeding), gave him a shot for antibiotic and a shot for pain and then, to add insult to injury, laughed at his ear hair.

To be fair, he is the Ed Asner of ear hair.

There ensued a discussion where I swore I was going to scoop up the neighborhood’s intact tom, Ginge — who has now cost me a lot of money — and get him deballed. The vet thought the owner might object to that, and there followed a discussion of the ownership of cats.

In Rhode Island, I know, you cannot own cats in law. They own themselves. You can own dogs, but not felis. Which suits their sense of self, but means you can kill a cat without legal drama (I have to assume this doesn’t apply to pedigree cats and animal cruelty is still an offense). I used to follow the blog of a cat rescuer who routinely snuck up on unspayed cats and spayed them without telling the owner. Not on the spot, of course.

Anyway, Jack has been an absolute bastard ever since. He won’t go outside, bounces off the walls and beats up Charlotte to make himself feel better. I’m’a buy him a tiny wifebeater for Christmas.

November 28, 2017 — 10:18 pm
Comments: 18