Jumping back to the middle (I’m not making you go back to the beginning – that would be absurd) Sabre, my “baby boy” arrived at Cat-A-Holics rescue shelter, with 2 other kittens, all only 4 weeks old. To the rescue Bat Man (oops, Cat Woman)! So to the rescue I went, selflessly abandoning all else.
The deal was to take them in for 4 weeks, bottle feed them, ensure they were strong, healthy and well socialised before returning them for adoption.
Take a look and tell me you wouldn’t end up keeping at least one!
At this point, I have my adopted adult cat, Jangles and things are going far from well with her and my dog, Litchi. I told myself, firmly, that I had quite enough animals and would definitely be able to return all the kittens. So I plowed on into the milk mixing, bottle feeding, sterilizing bottles, mix milk again, feed again, sterilize again routine. I’m sure, at this point, you feel extremely sorry for me. It is a nasty job, having to play with baby kittens – who can handle it?
Then I began the socialisation, making sure they were held by all ages, sexes and nationalities. More terrible work – I had to have friends round and introduce them to cute kitties. Poor friends – they hated it, especially the kids!
In amongst this, dog socialisation was necessary (only to ensure that, if they were to go to homes with dogs, they would be alright – not because I was keeping any of them). Out of their room they came. Litchi approached with her usual response to cats, which was to pounce and bark simultaneously. Two kittens immediately tried impersonating a witches cat, with arched backs, hair standing on end, hissing and side stepping backwards (awfully cute to watch in a 4 week old). Sabre, on the other hand, look quizzical and strutted straight up to her with a “let’s play” attitude. Litchi was shocked. She froze. Then she obviously thought she may as well introduce herself properly and there we had it, my dog now loved a cat and “forever brave” Sabre had found his new best friend. I assume you’re guessing how “taking them all back” went?
The Happy Tails ending happened for all of them. Sabre, naturally, had found his forever home in my heart and house. On the day I returned the other two, a woman came in specifically to adopt the one (the little, beautiful grey kitten). She brought her young son – bad mistake. Once they realized that, by taking one, the other would be left alone, they became determined to take both. Dad had, apparently, told them “only one!” (he had evidently been very firm about this). So Mom devised a plan. She assumed she would not be able to convince Dad and explained to Son that he must phone, saying “it’s imperative that we take both”. Son did as he was told. He phoned Dad and said “it is IMPERVIOUS”! I don’t think Dad could say “No” through his laughter and the kittens had a brilliant forever home, having spent only 1 hour at the shelter.
Now that’s what I call a Happy Ending.