And Away They Go...

Thursday was a gut-wrenching, roller coaster type of day here at Teeny Tiny Tabby Town.  We spent our morning getting ready to say goodbye to some of our first foster kittens ever.  Three kittens were determined ready to make the trek to Petco.

We always knew our Benny would be one of the first to go.  Handsome, outgoing, strong, and healthy... Ben exudes confidence and was more than ready.  He did not disappoint.  Benny entered the kitten area in the store as if he had always been there... had a snack and used the litter box within the first few minutes before meeting the ladies in residence without a single issue.  Our floofy boy is ready and calmly waiting for his forever family.

Surprisingly enough, Baz went along for the ride.  He had become Benny's shadow the past couple days, so we thought it might be worth a try to send him on the same day.  Baz the Tasmanian Devil went back to Petco calmly and sweetly.  He didn't make a fuss when he first arrived, or when I left him there, or when I came back for a visit that evening.  He's a different cat than when I met him on Monday.  ((That being said, I am on call this weekend to return for him if he goes back to his devilish ways))

This one hurt the most.  Little baby Eloise also said goodbye.  It was the right thing to do and it was the right time, but she didn't make it easy on me.  I would have wished that our sweet, demure princess waved goodbye and confidently took her first steps toward finding her forever home.

Miss Eloise Crankypants made the trip instead.  She hid in the carrier and had to be pulled out.  She hissed and growled at the other kittens at Petco (even Ben!).  She picked a comfy bed and trembled there until I left.  I worried about her so much that I went back after dinner to check on her.  She seemed a bit better, but still was decidedly unhappy.  I'm hoping that when I bring Henry and Porter to join the party on Saturday, my Wheeze will be adjusted to her new surroundings.

Yep... two more goodbyes this weekend.  Sigh....

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But When You Give Your Fosters Back, You Get More...

I just wasn't expecting it to happen right away... Meet Clyde (quite possibly the most incredibly gorgeous hunk of man cat I have ever seen)

When our rescue received the call about Clyde, we were told he was a six-month-old kitten who belonged to the neighbors that moved... and left him behind in the backyard.  Our director had the callers drop him off at our vets to be checked, vaccinated, and neutered so we could bring him straight to Petco.  Imagine our surprise when we learned that Clyde is closer to 2-years-old instead.  This created a problem since the current adult cat in residence at Petco will tolerate kittens but not other adults.  So...

Clyde is a short-termer, living in my family room until a spot opens up for him at Petco.

He brought his fox-tail with him.  I can't be sure, but I think his tail might account for half of Clyde's nearly 8-pound weight.

He is a trusting lover boy who enjoys human companionship and is happy to be here with us.  

I'm glad he's here too.

Hey... I gave up three kittens and only took in one more cat.  That equals TWO steps in the right direction.

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And Last, But Not Least...

Our final kitten of the Adams litter... Here's Shelby (named for the Shelby Mustang)

Shelby is our confident and chatty conventional calico baby.  Our girl always has something to say.  Shelby attempted to leave the foster room yesterday and met Charlie in the doorway... and I'm still kicking myself for not having the camera ready.  85-pound dog gently sniffing a palm-sized kittens, who refused to don her floof suit... ridiculously adorable.

I'd say those words just about sum her up perfectly... ridiculously adorable.

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Have a great weekend, everyone.  I'll be back on Tuesday with two more goodbye stories (sob) and lots of new stories about the teenier set.

Oh yeah... and Tuesday's the first day of school too.

Why yes... I am the parent that dances down the aisles while shopping for school supplies.  It's been a long summer.

Tiny Thursday

Today is the big day.  As I write this, I am not 100% certain who will still be here at the end of the day.  A preliminary decision has been made, but is dependent upon a final eye check this afternoon.  I can't bring myself to say an official goodbye yet.... especially since every time I expect to send the kittens off, a health reason ends up keeping them here instead.  So, we will wait to tell you the Washingtons' tale tomorrow.  For today...

Meet our dilute calico princess.

The three Adams boys have two calico sisters, one dilute and one standard.  It is ever so much harder to give car names to girl kittens than boy kittens.  Bentley, Hudson, and Cruz were easy, sophisticated yet macho.  You'll remember when I said there was really only one car name that didn't work for me as a real name, but I was going with it anyway?  This is it.  Her name is Malibu (like the Chevy), although I tend to just call her Mally.

Miss Malibu is the crustiest little thing that walks on four legs.  Her nose, paws, and belly are almost always coated in a substance that is not meant to remain in kitten fur.  You name it, I've probably found it matted on Malibu.

The crustiness doesn't seem to bother her, though.

But since it bothers anyone who might want to cuddle Princess Mally, we end up giving her ultra quick sink baths once a day.

See??  She can do it herself... she just chooses not to most of the time.  She'll get the hang of it eventually.

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Malibu loves her brothers and can most often be found snuggled up to Hudson (our grey tuxie, who coincidentally is the second-most hygiene challenged kitten in the litter)

Telling our calico sisters apart is quite easy.  Malibu is the more muted colored one there in the center.  Her sister is at the top.  We'll round out the family by meeting her tomorrow.

Growing Up

I asked Eloise to take a break from sharing her brother stories for today.  Her third and last brother has wormed his way into a special place in my heart.  He's come such a long way in his time here that I found myself in tears talking about his progress last night.  So I figured that I should be the one to tell you all about our Porter.

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Kitten's Real Name: Porter

Kitten's Approximate Date of Birth: April 2, 2012.

(Making Porter approximately 21 weeks old... almost 5 whole months!)

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Kitten's Nicknames: Porkchop, Porter Pop, Po-Ta, and

Po-Po

"Just because Porter likes to impersonate the siren of emergency vehicles whenever he's hungry, you call him Po-Po?  How about Porter call the real Po-Po because of your dumb nicknames?"

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Porter came to us at the beginning of July as a sweet goopy mess.  Crawling with hundreds of fleas and fighting an eye infection, I really thought he was at his lowest on that day.  And then the ringworm diagnosis came.

"Can we stop talking about those worms sometime soon?  Porter's had enough of worms to last him for.stinking.ever already."

Henry and Eloise had just enough ringworm to make life irritating.  Porter (poor little baby Porter) fought a war of epic proportions.  His face was riddled with welts.  His ears were rough and scaly.  All four of his legs were bald.  There were times that I despaired that we were never going to be rid of it.

And just look at how beautiful this boy is now!

Timid little Porter retreated into his shell in my presence for weeks.  He associated me with all of the bad stuff... medication and bathing were at the top of his naughty list.  If I reached for him, he shrunk away, slunk away, and cowered in a corner.  I worried that he hadn't been adequately socialized and that he would have trouble when the time came for adoption.  I'll admit now that my feelings were just a tiny bit hurt that he would have rather had nothing to do with me on most days.

And now he comes looking for me whenever he's scared or needs a hug... and I'm just hating every minute of it ;-)

Porter began his time here as a loner and a sideline sitter.  He watched every little thing that Henry, Eloise, and Ben did, but rarely joined in the game.

And now he's smack dab in the middle of it all...

Getting a little bossy...

And starting to become an instigator...

While leading the charge at the door to get out and explore the rest of the world...

With a rumbling purr that's as loud as the other three kittens' put together.

Things are definitely looking up for our Porter Chop.

In the past two weeks, my Porter has morphed from a shy, scared, trembling baby to a confident, ruffian, racehorse of a kitten who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to chase after it (at high speed).  I'm not worried one little bit about sending him off into the world.  He's ready... even if I'm not.

"Pfft... Just when you let Porter out of the room, you're sending him to a cage?  How will Porter run up and down the stairs like a white streak there?"

Wednesday is probably our last full day with the Washington babes.  Thursday marks one full week of eye drops.  As long as the goopy eye stays gone, our kittens are ready to move to Petco.  Ben will be on his way... he's more than ready and desperately needs a mama who can cuddle him 15 hours a day and who will allow him to play in the blinds during the other 9.  Not sure who his traveling companion will be yet... could be Porter, could be Eloise, could be both.  They're both strong, confident, healthy and ready.  I've changed my mind 20 times since yesterday.  

"Tell you what, Lady... You send that new guy Baz to get adopted and Porter will stay here and sniff your feet for you.  Porter can be the stink detector."

Henry and Baz will be sticking around for a while.  Henry takes his last dose of Batril on Sunday, so he can make the move early next week.  Baz is making improvements in his interactions with the others, but I can't see myself ready to unleash him on the confines of the Petco adoption center (especially since MY babies will be there!)

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Another Newbie

 We have one last brother in the Adams clan.  Our little gray and white tuxie...

Say hello to Hudson.

Hudson is one adorable teeny tiny ball of fluff.  He's air within a puff... the tiniest kitten in weight, even though his floof suit makes him look bigger.  And he is a ridiculous mess.

If a mess can be made with it, you will find Hudson in the middle.  He sits in food dishes... wet and dry, full and empty.  He rolls in litter boxes.  He is quickly becoming the master of bath taking.

He's a precious little poppet and I love him dirty or clean (although I do wish he were clean a bit more of the time)

The Stooges Take the Stairs (and the rest of the house, too)

During daylight hours, the four Washington kittens spend more time outside of their room than inside.  They are having a high old time cavorting throughout the house.  Ben and Henry wrestle in the blinds that cover the back patio door.  Porter runs throughout the hallway at break neck speed. Eloise has discovered a new way to travel down the stairs.

Please notice that Eloise is walking on the wrong side of the banister spindles.

All of the kittens prefer to take a short-cut down stairs, traveling through the spindles to a chair that sits beside it.  I could live with that.  The Wheeze turns the trip into something more of an adventure (see above).  When she takes it slowly, everything turns out fine.  There are times, however, when a Wheeze traveling at high speed... well, lets just say that she gets to the floor quicker.

You can just imagine the amount of stress that the upstairs railing provides for me on a daily basis.

Below that upstairs railing, along the wall, is the aquarium.  A couple feet in front of the fish tank is the sofa where I often sit to watch the kitten gymnastic displays.  Frequently, a kitten who is upstairs will peek out through the spindles to talk to me and I have to sternly remind them to put their face back on the other side.  Monday afternoon, while performing the most professional level tumbling move possible, Porter got too close... went through the spindles... bounced off the cover to the aquarium... landed on the floor... hopped up and sprinted back upstairs like he meant to do it.

When my heart started beating again, I ran after him and checked him from ear to tail (over and over and over).  Not a single shred of evidence that anything happened to him.  All of this just further supports my hypothesis that kitten heads are filled with marshmallow fluff and kitten bodies are made out of the same material as superballs.  Amazing.

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I am so impressed with the kittens' incredible ability to adjust to their new surroundings.  Their interactions with my animals have been polite and respectful.  The not-so-teeny-tinies' reacitons?  Nothing short of astounding.  Simba would prefer not to have kittens running amok.  He could live a happy life never seeing a single one of them.  When approached by a kitten, he hisses softly and heads for higher ground.  And then he watches their nonsense as if it's the most fascinating reality program ever (disapprovingly, of course).  Norm watches them run in circles, and then settles down for a nap on the floor.  Charlie....

Charlie checked behind Henry's ears to make sure they were properly cleaned.

After checking that the kitten pits were up to snuff, Charlie indulged his charge in a bit of belly tickling.

And then he let Henry play "dentist" while Charlie played "patient".

Charlie wants you all to know that kitten-sitting is hard work.  He also wants a raise.

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The New Guy

The new guy is an exceptionally short-termer in Teeny Tiny Tabby Town.  When I went to Petco Monday afternoon to deliver Penny to her new Mom and Dad (obvious animal lovers who will spoil her rotten and love her forever... yay!), there was a major ruckus going on in the rescue cages.  Our display is actually a wall of interwoven cubbies.  Cats and kittens can freely move from one side to the other, giving them lots of room to roam and space to be on their own while they are there.  Someone (ahem) was ridiculously unhappy to be there and decided to take it out on every other feline on the premises.

Meet "Bubby" (more on what I'll actually be calling him later)

Bubby was a bottle baby who adored his foster mama.  His brothers and sisters have all been adopted, leaving baby Bub behind.  He's under so much stress at Petco that he turns into a bit of a hell-cat.  Jackson Galaxy might have a case here.  Part Tasmanian Devil (for real this time, Henry deserves an apology for being lumped together with these two), part real devil, part scared kitten, he stalked and attacked the other kittens and screamed loudly while doing it.  This is his second or third round there.  He's been this way every time.  He was adopted on trial last week and returned on Sunday.  I couldn't leave him there.  Without being asked, I packed him up and brought him home.

The original plan was to bring him back when my kittens move to Petco later this week... which might still happen, but I'm leaning towards hanging on to him for a bit longer.  Perhaps the stress is too much for him.  Perhaps he just needs a place to hang while we market him on Petfinder and adoption weekends while having a home to come back to.  I don't know, but I know I don't want him to experience that again.  Halfway home, he fell asleep in the car.  Coming out of the carrier, he started to purr.  He's a snuggler who loves people.  He's not so sure about the animals.

Meeting Charlie produced the Stranger Danger Floof Suit (TM--Robyn Anderson).  By the time we went to bed Monday night, he had put it away entirely... but he's still keeping an eye on that shifty dog.

He's a bit hissy and growly around the other kittens, but improved as the night went on.  He can now be in the same room without going into hysterics.  One step at a time is all I ask of him.  

Oh, and his name?  I just can't stand referring to him as "Bubby" and prefer to call him something else during his stay.  While hanging out on the sofa with the new guy and watching General Hospital (don't judge), it struck me how much he reminds me of the current villain of the story.  Jerry Jacks is back in town... completely gorgeous man and a total bad guy who's getting ready to wreak havoc on Port Charles.  My kids have an Uncle Jerry, so Jerry won't do.  The actor's name is Sebastian Roche.  We'll be calling the new guy Sebastian while he's here.  Baz for short.  It fits him.

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And Another New Guy

Continuing with our car naming theme (see yesterday for an explanation and an introduction to his brother), our tabby boy is named after a Chevrolet... the Cruze.  We decided to alter the spelling just a bit, so say hello to our new baby Cruz.

Cruz is an ultra-cute, ultra-friendly baby.  He was the first one of the Adams kittens to purr for me.

He's not shy about telling me what he thinks he needs either.

This teeny tiny tabby is all kinds of gorgeous and I'm ever so glad he's here.