There is always another kitty tale to bring you and no one ever tells them better than me. I have looked at the Family Tree pictures, constructed the time line of where, when and who, as well as put my Diva Calico Gen spin on it so, pull up a chair and lend an ear.
You know, there is nothing like kittens (or puppies) to bring out the ooohhh’s and the aaahhh’s in the Two Footed, unless they have a pitiful heart of stone. In the spring, just after the Princess took her cats and moved back in with her parents, Feral Mama cats were birthing all over town, in the bushes, deep in the forests by swift flowing creeks or wherever a nest could be hidden from the Forest Freaks. Little did Momma know two of those kittens had her name registered as legal owner, so far up there in the clouds that only Momma’s esoteric father (aka Grandpapa) knew.
Now Momma and her father shared this amazing Father-Daughter relationship, so I am told. They were of one accord on most subjects although she did push back when he trotted out some theories passed down and nixed, by even the cavemen. But kittens, that needed a home, that was hard to argue and justify refusal.
One day on a long weekend holiday Monday, just to please her father and maybe out of curiosity, Momma went deep in to the forest and was absolutely astonished. Grandpapa was not pulling her leg…. this time. There were several nests of kittens, little balls of fur, all colors curled up next to their sleeping siblings. A quick survey indicated the Mama cats were out, probably hunting. Good, no attack cats to intercept the mission. With every color, every size available, how could a Two Footed decide which to choose? There were all so captivating. However, a pure white, stood up, stretched and stared at Momma as if to say, ‘I know what you are up to. Take me.’ The well-mannered Etiquette Queen Finicky Cat now had a Forever Home.
When Momma arrived with Finicky Cat, Daddy asked why had she not brought a second one, so back they went. Marching around the long-term care parking lot was a little scrap of a black and white kitty, following her splotchy gray and white gaunter-by-the-minute Mama, who actually stopped, looked at Momma & Daddy, as if to say, ‘Take her, please. She does not have what it takes to be a feral. She is like a stalker, following me everywhere I go. Enough already, take her.’ Thus Little Miss Fraidy Cat joined Finicky Cat in a land of abundant food, fresh water, cat nip and balls with bells (liked all that) and regular trips to vet (did not like that so much).
Now when you take in teeny tiny kittens who have never been inside four walls with a roof, it is very scary for them. Ask me, I lived it. Finicky apparently rolled with the punches, sensing it was all good but Fraidy, was well, afraid. I mean did the name cause the condition or the condition cause the name, I ask?
Momma recalled that the day after they brought them home, Daddy, more of a dog lover, but would put up with Momma’s weakness, told her they were taking them back to the forest that very day because Fraidy hissed at him so ferociously, like a wild cat, he said. No telling what that orphaned feral would do once she was full size.
Momma laughed and told him, ‘Give it a week. She will be all over the new and improved life. What is not to like?’ It included not only the Two Footed but two dogs (Angel Teddy and Mama Tammy) who wanted to mother smother the latest additions to the family . Momma knew, Daddy was a soft spot, once the purring kicked in.
Fraidy Cat and Finicky Cat were really our stepping-stones, laying down the Cat-A-Laws for Momma, Daddy and Wonder Boy, introducing for the first time the miracle and healing power of Feral Kitties.
There is another real life in the jungle or you can not beat your DNA story to bring you about our Foremothers, Fraidy and Finicky but it must wait for another day, another dollar. Kaching!
