So all that.
And we're still, stupidly, looking for a friend for Percy. I don't think that Percy even wants a friend at this point. He's becoming quite spoiled here, and is kind of a loner. I think he likes being Top Cat, which he sees it as, rather than Only Cat.
'Tis the season for free kittens, after all. Every street corner and barn has kittens to give away over summer. Yet, it's been difficult for us to find kittens. Shocking, I know. Stipulations are given, like the fact that nobody wants me to keep my kittens outside. Or the fact that I want boy kittens and not girls. These things are deal breakers, apparently.
Last week I responded to an ad for free kittens. I showed up at the barn they lived in, we managed to catch 2 of the 4 available, and then things went south. Somehow, the kittens were put down, and they ran off and hid. Clearly, they were onto us. We couldn't get them to come out of hiding at all. The owner of the barn went to get the tenant that lived there, since she feeds them. They were farm more familiar with her, obviously, but didn't want to be caught. She wasn't any too keen on catching them, either. She made zero effort. Becky managed to coax one out of hiding, and I held onto that thing like there were no other kittens left in the world. It was a boy! (We thought.) The barn owner went home, and the tenant then decided that I was a very unfit home for kittens because I had 3 very large dogs (I do not) and they could snap a kittens neck in a second if they were unattended. (They could, but it would be very unlikely.) I was told, in no uncertain terms, that my home was unfit for cats. The fact the owner called back and apologized profusely for that didn't exactly make me want to run back to the barn and pick up kittens. (She seriously wanted me to.)
My sister got a kitten for her daughter, and I had every intention of going to get some from that farm, but just never remembered to. And then as I was driving today, there was that sign on the mailbox that said, "Free Kittens. Take One Today." So we pulled in. I have never seen a grown man so excited to see kittens go to a good home. He was super nice, helpful, cared for his kittens, and was even more glad to see 2 go to a new home. He even did a dance in the driveway coupled with a war whoop of joy as we pulled out. With 2 kittens. In a box of non-alcoholic Coors.
|I'm not sure why I find this photo so hilarious, but I do. It's hilarious.|
So we now have kittens living in our basement. They need to get used to me before I toss them into the great outdoors and hope it works this time. They need to get used to the dogs, too. Fenway is a feisty wee thing that spent 15 minutes growling and hissing at the dogs who were quietly laying on the floor a yard away, ignoring them. He's hilarious. Merlin, the one who was terribly afraid and almost wasn't caught at the man's house, is the most chillax gray ball of fluff I've ever seen. He loves being petted. He's relaxed enough to purr at his new home, in a crate, surrounded by strangers.
Kittens are fun, yo. When Fenway and Merlin decide they're going to come when I call them, I'll give them free reign of the basement for a bit before introducing them to the dogs. I can't wait until we can play with them, because watching kittens play is like crack to overworked and slightly stressed adults. Also, it's therapeutic.