I've named the mama cat Jenny, and I will talk about why at a later date because there was a lot of thought that went into that name. Anyway, Jenny and the kittens settled into the guest room, aka Amy's room, better than I could have hoped.
The kittens really disarmed him. He was so curious yet so scared.
He really took his time figuring it all out.
Although I frequently referred to them as Thing 1 and Thing 2, in truth I called the one with the white Creamsicle and the all tiger-striped one was called Richard Parker.
I was very lucky that my friend Laurie loaned me the cat tower that they enjoyed so very much.
This weekend the kitties went to their new homes. I will follow up on them for sure so don't worry.
I know Wiley already is wondering where they got to, as is poor Jenny. The vet assured me that she would have separated from them in nature and that 10 weeks is an acceptable time to send them to their new homes but I still feel bad.
Sending the kitties to their new homes will finally allow Wiley and Jenny to relax and get to know each other, and I know it's all for the best. Wiley was very anxious whenever the kittens were out and about, and Jenny was very protective. However, when animals are a huge part of your coping mechanism for depression, it isn't easy to part with this:
And especially this:
Of all the backyards, in all the towns, in all the world, they walked into mine.
It's all going to be alright. Right? Good. Glad we cleared that up.
Send me your stories please! Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
And just because this is Wiley's blog, I'm including this gratuitous picture of him sitting up for a carrot. Why? Why not?