Tiny Tabby on Thursday

Oh boy, do I have my hands full with the Adams litter.  The Washingtons, being sick and under stricter quarantine, waited until they were about three months old to start demanding their freedom.  The Adams babies?  Six weeks old and already regularly escaping the foster room.  They aren't terribly fast yet (yet), but they are learning to hang out near the door so they can saunter through whenever someone enters or exits.

Mini Malibu isn't intimidated one bit by the large dog on the other side of the door.

None of them are.

Four kittens think nothing of squirting through the doorway.  Bentley (the wild child), Shelby, Malibu, and Hudson regularly make it out into the hallway... examining backpacks and dog feet, startling Uncle Norman.  Simba has no idea what to make of their tiny selves.  He's pretty sure he doesn't want them in the hallway, but has yet to trot out his patented "Wow Wow Wow's" (as we refer to his vocalizing to strange cats inside his orbit... see yesterday's post if you missed the video presentation of Simba's mad skillz).

The fifth kitten?  Cruz sits in the doorway pouting and whining to be carried.  Yes, we indulge him.

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Connie is in the enviable position of being able to take her foster kittens to work with her on Fridays.  I love the idea of being able to socialize the kittens to new and potentially scary situations before the dreaded drive to Petco, so when my physical therapist told me yesterday that I should bring the kittens to her office... FIELD TRIP!  Five of them tumbling through a therapy room had me too busy keeping them out of trouble to take photos, but picture Bentley chewing on a cane (to its owner's delight), Hudson nursing on a doctor's hair, Malibu and Cruz wrestling underneath a waiting room chair, and Shelby bossing everyone around while exploring every nook and cranny.  

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Bossy?

"OK, boys... watch Shelby play with the ball spinner."

Yes, she demands an audience... and prefers a non-participating audience.

Why yes, Shelby does rule the foster room.

"BENTLEY!  Shelby is on the cat tree now.  Come back later."

"He's thinking about coming up here, isn't he?"

"SIGH... A princess needs her own special place to sit.  One where she can be uninterrupted by BOYS!"

Interestingly enough, even though each of the kittens easily scale the base of the cat tree, only one has ventured up the pole to the middle shelf.  The identity of that kitten shocked me.  Turns out that meek, mild Hudson is a climber.

On the opposite side of the room from the cat tree is a set of wicker shelves that I use for storing my kitten paraphernalia.  The second shelf from the floor is reserved for old towels.  Apparently, this is the new spot that Shelby has claimed for her pouty princess playhouse.

Note that there are two towels missing from the stack.  One dumped to the side, the other on the floor... brat.

"BENTLEY!!!  This is Shelby's special thinking spot.  Is no place sacred?"

"You should really think about getting down now before Shelby contemplates about doing something dastardly to prove her point."

"BAP!"

Yep, that's all she's got.  She's all talk.  ALL talk.  All talk, all the time.

Our girl is quite the talker.  Every time I walk into the foster room, I count babies.  Each and every time, I count to four and wonder where someone is.  I never have to wonder where Shelby is.  Even when I can't see her, I can hear her peeping at me and telling me how her day is going.

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Dilute calico sister is much quieter (and much less bossy with her brothers).

She will be the star of the show tomorrow.

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UPDATES

Update #1

Our three boys came through their surgical experience yesterday as if nothing happened.  I returned them straight to Petco instead of bringing them home.  They need to be acclimated, relaxed, and happy there in time for Saturday's scheduled adoption event.

They came spilling out of their carriers and immediately began climbing the cage doors to see the girls.  Henry and Baz were... well, Henry and Baz.  Porter acted confident and sure of himself... he's a whole new Porter.  The dog trainer at Petco, who has a chance to observe the kittens regularly, says that Porter has become an entirely different kitten during his few days there.  I'll worry less about him now.

Eloise, while much less afraid of her surroundings, still concerns me a bit.  If I'm not holding her during a visit, she's demanding to be held and comforted.  She purrs in my arms and acts like my sweet baby Eloise.  But as soon as I put her down... well, let's just say that I imagine she's telling me it's time to go home NOW.  It may be just a show just for me, though.  I got a call from Paula while she was at Petco last night.  Every kitten in the joint was tearing around, making a general menace of itself.  Eloise was leading the pack.

Update #2

There is room at Petco for an adult cat.  Our boy Clyde will be moving in later today.  His long hair is counting against him with the potential adopters that I mentioned yesterday.  But I can't imagine striking Clyde needing long to find a family once he's on public display.  This handsome man cat won't be there long.

"It IS difficult being this beautiful, but somehow Clyde will manage it."

 

Wimping Out on Wednesday

OK, I'll admit it.  The first day of school kicked my butt.  It wasn't so much that the 10th grader had to be up by 5:30 in order to catch her bus at 6:30.  Or that the 8th grader needed to be up at 6:30 to catch his bus at 7:30.  Or even that the 6th grader climbed out of bed at 7:30 to board her bus at 8:30.  It might have been the fact that one kid had a half day while her brother and sister had a full day of school.  Or that each one of them came home with a different school supply list than the one we shopped for last week, necessitating a trip to three stores along with a hundred other stressed out parents.  Or even that last night was the first soccer game of the season.  And let's not even get into the fact that I needed to squeeze in a trip to Petco and the vet, or that I'm not really sure what my kids ate for dinner on Tuesday...  Uncle.

"Why so stressed, Lady?  You should just get under the blanket with Cruzie and chill for a while."

The original plan for today's blog post was for Womenfolk on Wednesday.  I think we'll postpone by a day and bring you Thursday with Two Tabby Sisters instead.

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I will give you the update that I promised yesterday, though.  Our sweet Clyde might already be entertaining potential adoption offers.  A previous adopter from our rescue started asking around last weekend about a companion for her 2-year-old kitty boy.  She has a soft-spot for orange boys. We just happen to have a 2-year-old orange kitty boy.  You see how we're connecting the dots?

Clyde has been sequestered during most of his stay with us.  Truth be told, I really didn't want to stress out Simba for a short-term visit and Clyde is mellow enough not to really care whether he had the run of the house or a single room.  But we wanted to test Clyde with other cats to see how he would react to a potential brother.  Simba was not amused.

Please note that no kitties were harmed in the making of this video.

Simba has an interesting vocalization that he breaks out for newcomers... and will go on forever if he's not distracted.  No true aggression, no fighting, just singing.  Clyde's reaction was pretty much restricted to turning his back and ignoring the weirdo.  After he had enough, Clyde simply walked into my older daughter's room at the end of the hall, ducked under the bed, and took a nap.  I guess he passes the first test for being able to tolerate a kitty brother.  We're going to let him get to know Norman later today.

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Henry, Porter, and Baz spent Tuesday night at the vet clinic and are on the surgical schedule for first thing Wednesday morning.  They will be moving back to Petco on Wednesday afternoon.  I decided it would probably be too much for Porter (and for me) to bring him home only to have to take him back.  I'm sure Eloise would prefer her brother come back to Petco and keep her company too.  I will have an update Thursday.

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.