I came home after a long day to find this in my box of crackers. I don’t know if the crackers were too much or if it was the plastic consumed getting into the stash. Most likely the latter, but in any case, I needed little prompting to get up to the animal shelter.
I went up and there were no kittens available. I did learn that there “might be” one or two available after the regularly scheduled vet day. Those kittens who had come in would be seen by the vet, spayed or fixed, then 24 hours released for adoption. If I were to be at the shelter at 1:00 on Thursday, then I might have a chance to snag one up. I said, most likely not as I would be working, but maybe there might be one left over later in the day. Don’t get you hopes up, the kittens go quickly. Well, I figured, if I am supposed to have a new kitten, then one would be left if I got there later in the day.
Not as pretty as mouse, kinda gremlin like with odd markings and beady little eyes. And she is feral. A hissing and spitting scaredy cat who flees back into her crate at the smallest sound or shadow. The polar opposite of Mouse who would run to the door as soon as you got there to say hello.
This one is gonna take some work.
But she does come out of hiding and after a couple of days, she actually was lying with me on the bed and purring. Progress.
She has joined me for morning tea and has helped herself to the milk.
She has even ventured to help me with design work.
At the shelter her cage name was Checkers. There was a sign on the door that outlined what an “under-socialized” kitten was like and how to socialize them. There were two kittens, her litter mate was all black and had double paws, and for a moment I felt like I had the booby prize. I pressed on. Alicia, the supervisor at the shelter, had fostered the litter at her house. She assured me her kids played with the litter for the last three weeks and even with all the hissing, thought this kitten was the brightest and showing the most interest and curiosity. For a feral cat, you want smarts. For this house we need a good mouser. A bit of a gamble, but as long as she gets the litter box thing, we are golden. I was assured she did but Checkers really isn’t an inspiring name. One of Alicia’s children is named Baylen and she said it means mighty warrior.
Baylen the Brave, positive intention into the universe with the hope that she will grow into it. She has begun to branch out a bit. She still hisses at just about everything, but she seems to have good hunter instincts. She will be an indoor kitty, at least for the next few months. She has to learn her home and that this is a safe space. Maybe when the snow begins to fly she might be introduced to the outside on a leash. Maybe not.