Friday, October 17, 2008
Introducing -- Blacky!!
We have a new kitten.
Monday morning, Kwamai was playing outside and suddenly came running in the house, anxious about being chased. I poked my head out the door to see the tiniest, cutest little black kitty trundling down the driveway. I realized Kwamai's angst had come from this kitty (he's still a bit phobic about all animals), but my heart melted! We had just had a discussion around the dinner table not a week before where Erol revealed that he actually sort of liked cats. With an excitement that surprised even me, I said "Well, let's get one, then!"
Back to Monday. The cat followed Kwamai right up onto the porch and in a short minute was in my lap. Kwamai and Felicity headed off to catechesis, and Blacky (whom I had already named) sat in the yard, waiting. She became the talk of the neighborhood, and all the kids came to see her and to take turns holding her, and to come up with all sorts of reasons why Kwamai would not be able to keep her (fueled I think by jealousy, and the excitement...)
Erol came home from work, and I explained that there was this cat, she was cute, Kwamai and Felicity already loved her, and I'd heard how cats could even live outside. Erol said not much in reply (which is sort of his way, I guess!) Five minutes later, I opened the door, and -- imagine that -- in walked Blacky. Hmm. I guess she was an indoor cat now!
Long story short, we got all of her supplies the next day, got her thoroughly de-fleaed, learned she knew exactly what to do with a litter box, and that she was a bit tuckered out. She's much more playful now, loves to cuddle, and Erol even fell asleep with her nestled in the crook of his arm tonight.
We might need to get her a bright fuscia collar, though. When she sit on our black couch, you can hardly see her. By the types of teeth she has, I'm saying she's at least 8 weeks old, but she's almost small enough to hold in one hand.
"Blacky" is the most unoriginal name, but it just sprung from my lips when I first saw her. Felicity calls her "Red and Blue." Kwamai calls her "Black-Black," but also though Cesar would be a good name.
And if I thought it weren't enough that I occasionally get Kwamai and Felicity's names confused, once now when Felicity woke up in the middle of the night I called her "Cleo," the name of my cat when I was growing up.
The interesting thing to me is that the arrival of Blacky has finally made very evident to me the developmental difference between Kwamai and Felicity. She is so verbal, and so many of her interests over lap with Kwamai (although vice-versa does not always prove true) that I sometimes forget that she is only 3. But with Blacky, even though Kwamai still gets panicy when she runs to him, he understands her as a fragile creature. Felicity sees Blacky as a fun, living toy to play with. Blacky is very patient about being carried in gift bags and in general being picked up and carried everywhere (and she has not scratched anyone yet). But I need to repeatedly remind her to be gentle, to let her eat, etc. And we discovered tonight that Blacky is not too fond of Felicity's harmonica playing. She ran and hid under the china hutch!
Stay tuned for further adventures!
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1 comment:
Awww. She's sweet! I had a Blackie long ago. She was an adventurer. We have one named Katrina (yes, after the hurricane for obvious reasons) who never stops coming up with interesting ways to get into trouble. Katrina is a tuxedo, she's black and white. We have two others, Geoffrey who I midwifed for when he was born, and Tabitha who is 12 years old and rules the house.
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