Maquinna's Poop du Jour

Pitter Patter of Little Feet

I won't deny that Craig and I have every intention of starting a family sometime next year, but in the meantime we have been unexpectedly, um, blessed, with a new baby of the furry variety. Family relations on Craig's side had one final kitten from a litter last June, supposedly the runt, and she needed a home. Given our collective experience introducing another cat into the house ruled by Motorhead, I was initially skeptical, but moved by the plight of a kitten facing the shelter, willing to give it a shot.

For the last ten days, then, our lives have been turned utterly upside-down. I had forgotten how much energy a kitten has - how fast it moves, how it gets into absolutely EVERYTHING. Nothing is safe that isn't tied down, and even tied-down items are at risk. Anything that moves needs to be pounced on, repeatedly - this includes feet innocently moving under bedcovers at 3 am. Banishment only results in plaintive mewing outside the door, which naturally breaks my heart and my resolve.

And then there are the other animals, naturally bewildered by this addition, an affront to the silently agreed-upon equilibrium at the farm. Motorhead is definitely put out, and continues to hiss vigourously at the kitten whenever she sees it. Little kitten is certainly wary of her, but oh, her curiosity! You can literally feel just how much she wants to push her luck. Ock is relatively oblivious, and doesn't seem to mind having the new one around, but she is not to be trifled with either. At first, the kitten was terrified of Ock, who as a 30 lb shepherd-cross must have seen an enormous animal. Gradually she began to realize that Ock was no threat...unless, of course, you approach her while she's at her food bowl. That encounter resulted in Miss Snapper Jaw delivering a clear indication of what will NOT be tolerated, and little kitty ended up with a temporarily swollen eye, new respect for distance around the dog, and her first honestly acquired name - Sockeye.

We're still calling her other things - Badger, Pagoda, Junebug, Sambo - but somehow I have a feeling Sockeye's the one that's going to officially stick. The rest will be relegated to affectionate names, just as Ock is Snapper Jaw and Monkeyhead, and Motorhead is the Globehead and frequently Kit-ty (pronounced with very definitely clipped, curt syllables).

I was being very careful, the first week, not to bond with her too too much, in case it didn't work out and she was shipped off to some other home. I didn't want to deal with litterboxes right now. I'm scared about my collection of Polish glass ornaments this Christmas. She's starting to grow on me, though, despite her tiny little needle-prick claws digging into my calf in the middle of the night, Motorhead's disgruntled behaviour, and total animal feeding station chaos. I will, however, be glad when she slows down a little.

posted by Maquinna @ 9:41 a.m.