His, mine and ours

Happy news! My fiance, Bobby, and I finally tied the knot Saturday, May 30, and just got back from our honeymoon in Memphis. Bobby is a blues musician--and a barbecue fanatic--thus his decision to surprise me with a honeymoon on Beale Street. We had a great time, and are now back home with our combined family of seven cats.
His two are L'il Bit, a tiny Siamese who's nearly 12, and Fiona, a huge long-haired torti we rescued as a tiny kitten from the crawlspace of a student apartment near his old apartment a year and a half ago.


Since they and Bobby moved into my house, we are keeping Bit and Fiona in the spare bedroom, where they have all their favorite things from their old home. They are getting acquainted with my five kitties by sniffing and pawing under the door. There is much hissing and growling coming from the bedroom, and my cats want so much to go in and see what's making that noise. I've done lots of reading on how to integrate new cats into a multicat household; hopefully all that research will pay off with a peaceful transition for everyone.

Waiting in a hot car with a gassy cat

No pictures of this, thank goodness! Sir Thomas went to the vet today for a checkup and shots. Because he's a stray, the staff asked me to wait with him outside until they got a room ready, and we would be ushered right in. That's understandable, since there's no way of knowing what he might have and they don't want to run the risk of infecting other cats who may be in the waiting room.

Of course all the shady parking spots were taken, so we had to sit in the car in the hot sun with the air conditioner running. Still, it would get a bit warm after a while, so I'd crack the driver's side window a few inches every few minutes to let in some fresh air. Sir Thomas stood on my lap and tried to squeeze himself through the crack in an attempt to escape (he was very unhappy in the carrier and since we had to wait so long, I let him come out until it was time to go inside).

Since he's been eating regular meals, of prepared cat food instead of fresh kill, his little tummy has just bloated up and he's had terrible gas. (The vet did assure me that this would pass--pardon the pun--as he got used to his new diet.) So I'm sitting in this hot car with the sun beating down, and a cat standing on my lap farting frequently. It seemed like forever before a vet tech came out and got us. I'm not sure whether Sir Thomas or I was more relieved!

Sir Thomas needs a home

My name is Sir Thomas, the title stemming from my courtly visits to a fair kitten named Emily, before she was fixed (though she did not appear to be broken). I myself have since been fixed (though I was not aware of being broken either). I now find myself enjoying domestic life as an indoor cat after having lived about two years on my own in the wild. I carry at least three BBs in my body as a reminder of those tough times.

Although I'm very happy with my foster family, my foster mom already has five cats to care for, and not wishing to impose on her, I feel compelled to look for a family less generously endowed with felines. I enjoy both human and feline companionshi9p, though, as well as lots of affection and play. I've had all my shots (besides the BBs), and my indoor manners are impeccable. However, I confess I do still yearn for the outdoors, and need to be vigilantly watched to prevent my escape until I adjust completely to an indoor lifestyle. Petting and playtime have proven helpful diversions for the "call of the wild."

If you would like to have a gentleman such as myself in your home, please leave a contact number or e-mail address in the comments. God bless you!

Sir Thomas

The latest addition

The phone rang as I was about to leave home to pick up a mama cat and her seven (!) newborn kittens that I was going to foster. The woman who had found the little family said a new kitten, about four weeks old, had just wandered up. The lady knew all the neighborhood cats, and this baby didn't belong to anyone, so she seemed to have been dumped. The woman asked if I would take this one too, and I said, "Sure, why not?"

Fostering the mama, Sassafras, and her seven boys is a trip, but this little girl just stole my heart from the get-go. I called her Spot, because of her speckled belly, for the first couple of weeks until I realized I was going to keep her. Then she became Emily. She's pictured here at 6 weeks old.

My boyfriend teases me because I've nicknamed her "The World's Most Perfect Kitten" -- even though she doesn't always quite make it to the litter box in time! She's incredibly sweet and snuggly, and has made friends with all my other cats -- even my curmudgeonly 17 1/2-year-old, Shugi.