So far my posts have been a bit serious, but today I’m going to go full-blown “mommy blog” by introducing you to our new additions, Pikachu and Squirtle. These two cuties were found in a friend’s backyard, and when her sister posted a picture on facebook, I decided they needed to come home with me.
The kitten pickup took place on a Wednesday night in the back of the church parking lot. It felt a bit like the drug deals I used to watch go down at North Park after cross country practice. A short greeting and a quick handover, and off we drove off into the night with our new fur balls.
After coming home with us, they spent a few nights in our bathroom while they got to know us. Showering became an adventure, as their habit of kicking litter around made it questionable whether we were going to exit any cleaner than we entered. Tyler, familiar with cats, but having never been around kittens, was concerned about this uncleanliness. So, when left alone for two minutes, he and his three year old cousin decided to resolve this problem by giving the cats a shower. Chaos ensued, and both cats are now cozy in their new home inside our barn.
The barn is pretty much like a gymnastics training center for cats. With a facility like this, these guys they should be Tokyo-bound in no time. As cute as they are, though, these kittens have an important job to do – eliminate rodents from the barn. The position was previously held by a rat snake. He did a decent good job, and I didn’t really mind having him slither around at my feet occasionally, but we parted ways after I found him dangling over my head in the rafters. Kittens are a much more agreeable solution.
Pikachu is female, and Squirtle is a male, but to be completely honest, I still have no idea who is who. Whenever Tyler asks me which one is which, I very confidently take a wild guess (my career as a defense contractor prepared me for this). They are both black and fuzzy, and according to Tyler, they like jelly beans. According to me, they have no fear of our dogs, but the labs themselves seem pretty anxious about these frisky new creatures with lots of pointy ends. So far, though, everyone is adjusting well to the new arrangements.
A letter Benjamin Franklin once wrote about God’s abundance is famously misquoted, but it is, in fact, not beer, but kittens that are “proof that God loves us and wants to be happy.” I know that eventually they will become fickle, persnickety, full-grown cats, and I’ll wake up one morning with one perched on my nightstand, leering over my slumber like he’s plotting my death. For now, however, I am basking in the cuteness.