In the old days, kittens just seemed to show up in people's lives. They were not bought at stores or shelters. Someone had a box of them on the corner and they just dispersed into the community like a loving sneeze. It wasn't such a big deal. I am thrilled that cats are spayed and neutered now, making this scenario a memory. But...
I think back to the early nineties when a colleague told me one of her students' cat had kittens in Dorchester. "Want one? They are orange." That is all I needed to hear, and on a cool October afternoon we ventured to this student's house. We found a mostly white mama nursing four beautiful orange babies, and had about two minutes to pick one out. I looked in each little set of eyes, and settled on one who looked back. My friend did to. We put them in a box and left, pulling over to get flea powder at the first pet store we saw. We held the kitties up in the air and tried to delouse them by the side of the road, then cuddled them all the way home. My friend's cat became Moses, who used to sit in the trash barrell and poop in her plants. Ew. My little kitten became Boo Boo, my best friend and soul mate. I know I will never ever have a friend, feline or otherwise, that was like that. Still...
Since Boo's passing every October I get a hankering for that experience...stumbling across the kitten that is The One. The Best Friend. The Mysterious Feline Partner in Crime. I've tried twice and have lovely cats, Theo and Seama, but they are no Boo. Was it the time I got him? My life circumstance? Was it him? I do acknowledge that raising a kitten in a house with dogs and parrots is not as calm as raising one in an apartment with only another cat and a resentful husband, but wonder...is that special four pawed pal out there somewhere, waiting to sleep on my pillow? Boo Boo slept with his big bear paws wrapped around my neck almost every night for 14 years. Can't tell you how I miss that. Seamus deposits his butt in my face on my chest every night. Not quite the same thing.
Alas, I know in my heart of hearts that bringing a kitten home now would throw off the rhythm of my home and it's members, and probably cause an outbreak of feline gang warfare that could go on indefinitely. I know I don't want that. I console myself with many kitten videos on Facebook and get lost in the tiny feet, tiny faces, innocent eyes, and bulging bellies. Oh, the bellies.
I can hope that my PAWS friend will get baby kittens soon that I can play with. At worst I will scratch the baby kitten itch. At best, maybe, just maybe, I will see Boo potential in one kitten's eyes? Or maybe I will be driving down the road someday and see a person with a box of kittens...then I will know it is time. Until then, forcing the issue by actually visiting a shelter seems wrong. Oh, Boo, you were a one in a million cat and I think you broke the mold. Why do I keep looking? Because kittens and cats and birds and dogs are life, and make me happy. That's why. Peace out, cat lovers!
I think back to the early nineties when a colleague told me one of her students' cat had kittens in Dorchester. "Want one? They are orange." That is all I needed to hear, and on a cool October afternoon we ventured to this student's house. We found a mostly white mama nursing four beautiful orange babies, and had about two minutes to pick one out. I looked in each little set of eyes, and settled on one who looked back. My friend did to. We put them in a box and left, pulling over to get flea powder at the first pet store we saw. We held the kitties up in the air and tried to delouse them by the side of the road, then cuddled them all the way home. My friend's cat became Moses, who used to sit in the trash barrell and poop in her plants. Ew. My little kitten became Boo Boo, my best friend and soul mate. I know I will never ever have a friend, feline or otherwise, that was like that. Still...
Since Boo's passing every October I get a hankering for that experience...stumbling across the kitten that is The One. The Best Friend. The Mysterious Feline Partner in Crime. I've tried twice and have lovely cats, Theo and Seama, but they are no Boo. Was it the time I got him? My life circumstance? Was it him? I do acknowledge that raising a kitten in a house with dogs and parrots is not as calm as raising one in an apartment with only another cat and a resentful husband, but wonder...is that special four pawed pal out there somewhere, waiting to sleep on my pillow? Boo Boo slept with his big bear paws wrapped around my neck almost every night for 14 years. Can't tell you how I miss that. Seamus deposits his butt in my face on my chest every night. Not quite the same thing.
Alas, I know in my heart of hearts that bringing a kitten home now would throw off the rhythm of my home and it's members, and probably cause an outbreak of feline gang warfare that could go on indefinitely. I know I don't want that. I console myself with many kitten videos on Facebook and get lost in the tiny feet, tiny faces, innocent eyes, and bulging bellies. Oh, the bellies.
I can hope that my PAWS friend will get baby kittens soon that I can play with. At worst I will scratch the baby kitten itch. At best, maybe, just maybe, I will see Boo potential in one kitten's eyes? Or maybe I will be driving down the road someday and see a person with a box of kittens...then I will know it is time. Until then, forcing the issue by actually visiting a shelter seems wrong. Oh, Boo, you were a one in a million cat and I think you broke the mold. Why do I keep looking? Because kittens and cats and birds and dogs are life, and make me happy. That's why. Peace out, cat lovers!
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