You’ve seen the good here — cute kitten pictures, heartwarming adoption stories. You’ve seen the ugly — what humans are capable of, Leah’s story. Time for the bad.
I have a confession to make: I make mistakes. Those of you who know me personally will be shocked. (Shocked that I admit it!) I’ve just made two gigantic mistakes with the kittens. Mistakes that could have been, worst case scenario, fatal. Fortunately, they weren’t and all is well.
The first. When I let Art(hur) out of the bathroom he, of course, explored everywhere. Including peeking through the window of the kitten room where the kittens had ripped away the paper. Claire who, to me at least, has been a casual mom, threw herself at the door hissing and banging with her little “fists”! Arthur was stunned and simply walked away, clearly wondering what the hell lived in there. A couple of hours later, while doing some cleanup, I left the kitten room and forgot to slide the box back that blocks the door. Murphy came along and, as Murphy is inclined to do, opened the door. I was sitting in the living room and suddenly heard what seemed to be a pitched battle. Murphy came flying out of the hallway (tufts of fur flying all around him) with Claire in full battle chase mode!! She stopped when she saw me and I had to carefully herd her back into the room.
I honestly don’t know what would have happened if Arthur had got in there. He still has the hormones of an intact male. Fortunately, he doesn’t know how to open the door. I know — confidently know — that Murphy would never have hurt the kittens. Hissed probably, and maybe smacked one on the head if it got too close, but that’s all.
The second. The kittens were diagnosed (by Sarah, in discussion with me) with worms late last week. I picked up medicine for them on the weekend, but Mandy is still too small to take it. She’s been suffering from terrible diarrhea, so she’s going to the vet today for a check and to see if they have a de-wormer she can take. That means she’s at work with me. I decided to bring Bree along so Mandy would have company. I loaded them into the soft-sided carrier which has a zippered end and a zippered top. I loaded them in from the top. We headed off. For most of the walk to the bus, I held the carrier up in my arms, but for the last bit, I was holding down at my side by the handles. Near the bus stop, someone really started crying. When I got to the stop, I lifted it to look in. I could only see one kitten. Ha ha! They hide so well. As I put it down to take a closer look I saw that the end zipper was partly open. She wasn’t hiding — she was gone. I zipped it up and turned and ran back. There was a teenager coming down the sidewalk. I asked him if he’d seen a kitten. “Yeah, just back there.” About 25 metres away. (I don’t understand how he could just walk past her, but that’s another story.) THANK GOD! It was Bree. She’d basically frozen and was trying to press herself into the ground. She could have run. Or she could have fallen out way at the beginning of the walk, if I hadn’t been carrying them against me. I still don’t think my heart rate is back to normal. I figure the crying as I got close to the bus stop was Mandy freaking out ’cause Bree was gone. They’re fine now. They’ve both had a second breakfast (first was at home) and they’re napping. But I will NEVER not triple check all the zippers on the carrier again.
[Update: Mandy was pronounced healthy — though bloated — by the vet and was dosed with worm medicine. I asked her to take a peek at Bree, too, and she was also fine. In fact, everyone at the vet’s office — knowing the outcome — laughed at me “losing” a kitten!)
Some cute weekend pictures: