Thanks to the machinations of a pretty epic 15 yr old girl, my eldest now has a kitten of his own. The kitty is mostly white with patches of grey and black fur. She’s all fur, actually, with pensive gray eyes that seem to say, ‘what am I doing here?’ The boy named her Skitty after the Cat-Pokemon that evolves into Delcatty. It was an obvious choice–Meowth and Lucario didn’t seem to work for a girl cat, and the name was going to be Pokemon influenced no matter what. She arrived this afternoon. We weren’t entirely prepared for the arrival. We had all the necessary equipment but failed to realize how shocked and afraid she would be to find herself in a new home with creatures she’d never before encountered–Chopper, our Yorkie for one.
Skitty is the third cat I’ve ever lived with and the first that didn’t directly belong to me. She’s also the first that wasn’t completely gray. Her predecessor, Razzi-Ann, died traumatically over a year ago. We are partially convinced that Razzi was poisoned by a neighbor tired of cats wandering from yard to yard. I say this because I rarely see cats in the ‘hood anymore. Perhaps Razzi was only one of a multitude of victims. Skitty on the other hand is too small to hop the garden wall and cruise the block. In truth she doesn’t have the willingness to even hop a baby gate. This will come, along with a deeper understanding of the world around her.
I hope she realizes she is being welcomed into a home filled with love and understanding for pets. That is if you discount the dog who peed on everything then escaped into the wilderness long enough for me to decide not to murder or sell him…