Into each life, some kittens must fall. This weekend, it rained kittens.
You know it will be a different weekend when you get that special call on a Friday afternoon that exists in husband nightmares.
“Honey, I’m not asking if this is OK, I’m just telling you what I’ve done.”
I can’t complain being married to a woman with a big heart. A heart big enough to marry me comes with benefits outside of my control. When she volunteers to take two kittens rescued from a construction site dumpster, I only put one stipulation on it: that she has a multi-tiered contingency plan to find them a home so that we don’t end up with another pet “accidentally.” Deal is made and this is what I come home to:
As you can see, my weekend was pretty much shot. She (well, we think it is a she) quickly dominated our lives, from worrying about if she is eating enough to getting cat supplies like food and a litter box at 10pm on a Friday night. She did her best to weasel into our hearts, like wanting to be near us constantly. She even put up with Evie learning how to be gentle with a kitten.
Saturday morning was supposed to be adventure time for daddy and Evie, but the kitten won. We went to a porch party in the afternoon (more on that later), and had to take her. Why? Well it was a combination of not trusting her litter box skills and not wanting to leave her alone. Needless to say, we upstaged some of the other activities with the kitten being the center of everyone’s attention.
After returning home, Kymberlee received a double dose of black pet love.
She found a home tonight, making it a bittersweet 72 hours of kitten bliss and anxiety. Needless to say, it was priceless. We miss her already and made sure that we had full visitation rights with her new family.