Yep, you read that right. My husband and I have adopted two kittens. Normally, this might not be cause for saying I’ve lost my mind, but in this case, I have.
You see, this was neither a well-timed decision, nor a well thought out decision. My husband loves cats and has been begging for one for as long as I can remember. We have a dog, a 9 year old Labrador mix named Lita who is my baby, but she’s afraid of cats. As in deathly afraid of cats. Naturally, since she’s my baby, I didn’t want to bring a cat into the house and essentially force her to live in fear. I promised my husband that when Lita passed, we’d get cats.
Then, about a month ago, my husband called me rather frantic because he was at Home Depot and he’d found a kitten in the lawn & garden department. He didn’t know what to do. I said ‘can you catch it?’ and he said ‘I think so’ and low and behold he did. He actually ran errands all day while holding that little tiny kitten in his hands. When he brought it home, I pretty much knew that if it was a girl, we’d keep it, but if it was a boy, we’d give it up for adoption (I have a strict NO BOY PETS rule in my house). Well, the poor thing was in bad shape and its genitals were so swollen I couldn’t tell what it was. So, my friend G (who I happened to be garage sale-ing with that day) and I took it up to the Sugar Land Animal Shelter where I volunteer and had them take a look. Turns out, it was a boy. Now I knew my husband would be devastated and in a fit of stupidity weakness I let G talk me into taking 2 other kittens from the shelter home for a sleepover to see how they’d do at our house. (Ok, ok, in her defense she didn’t have to really persuade me, I’m a total sucker when it comes to furballs, but I’m still totally blaming it on her.)
When G and I were about a block away from my house I got a text from my husband that said ‘so, is it a boy or a girl???’ (remember, he’s been dying for a cat). I said ‘they’re girls’ and his response… ‘it multiplied?’ You see, after having Lita for 9 years I’ve realized something… pets need a partner and it totally sucks for them to be alone. I promised myself that never again would I adopt “1” of something and that animals would always come in pairs at my house. So, much to my husbands utter shock and happiness, his one very sick kitten multiplied into two healthy kittens. We have one medium-haired dark brown and black tabby named Aurora who is about 6 weeks younger than the white with gray tabby patches kitten named Widgit (intentionally misspelled) and no, they’re not from the same litter.
As predicted, Lita freaked. She did much better than I thought she would though. She loves Aurora and Aurora loves her. They’re frequently nose-bumping and hanging out together. Widgit, on the other hand, was originally horrified by Lita and would hiss and swat at her on a regular basis. This, in turn, would totally freak Lita out. Now, however, they seem to have reached an agreement for the most part. Widgit doesn’t hiss at her anymore and there’s relative peace in my house.
Except for the fact that Widgit is a brat.
We’re talking total big-sister beating up and picking on little-sister brat. She absolutely INFURIATES me. I frequently hear Aurora squealing in pain because Widgit is biting her or something of that nature. Since I’m an only child, I’m having a hard time recognizing this as what it is… just a big sister picking on a little sister. Instead, I keep seeing Widgit as a mean ol’ bully and I keep (half-jokingly) telling my husband that I’m going to send her back for reasons of defect.
We’re guessing that Aurora was the runt and, on top of that, she definitely wasn’t weaned properly. Probably her mother pushed her away since her likelihood of survival as the runt was relatively low. When we got her, she weighed less than a pound. Now, three weeks later, she’s up to about a pound and a half. Widgit was slightly underweight when we got her but she was at 1.5 lbs and is now 3lbs. She’s growing by leaps and bounds while Aurora is moving painstakingly slowly in the growth department. Therefore, it’s hardly a fair fight. Widgit is twice Aurora’s weight and in development it’s like a 6 month old human baby versus a 4 year old child.
It is my sincere hope that as Aurora gets older and grows more that she’ll be able to fend off her crazyass sister. We’re keeping them both and as I told my husband the other day “she (Widgit) is just going to have to learn that I am Queen Brat in this house!”