Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Monday, August 29, 2005
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Days of Milk and Monkeys





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Tuesday, August 23, 2005
The Kids




Bliss, looking behind: "Don't make me come over there. I swear, I'll kick your pirate ass."
Otter, up close: "SQUIRRELS!"
Salem, in sun: "Upside-down is funny *snore.*"
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Sunday, August 21, 2005
Friday, August 19, 2005
it's ROGUE DAY

Five years and counting. Read the story here:
Five years ago today, I was feeding the cute stray black-and-white adolescent kitten up on our third-floor landing when I saw it: The Belly. I ran inside to get my roommate. Megan concurred: The young cat had to be pregnant.
I’d seen her once or twice the previous couple of days. On that Saturday, I was heading out to buy bottled water and wondered if I’d see her come out from under a car like I had before. I’d already asked Megan about taking her in, but Megan had just taken in a stray herself (making two cats for her), and I’d just lost Chewie to feline leukemia anyway and wasn’t ready to have anyone else in his space yet.
Anyway. Megan ran to get one of her carriers, and in a flash, we had the little thing inside. Oh, she hated it in there, yowled and wailed, but we knew we couldn’t let her have those kittens out on her own. I cried and stewed the rest of the afternoon trying to figure out what to do with her. Then to the rescue came my previous roommate, Leigh. She would take her for the weekend, while we got her to the vet to see if she was healthy. If there was no feleuk or anything, a woman who did animal rescue had agreed to take her (and I would take her back after the kittens were born). Leigh and I took the little girl to Banfield. There I first dubbed her Baloo, which I’d always wanted to name a cat. But it didn’t suit her. So when a tech was in the room with us, I decided that, considering the little super-hero she was, out on the street all by herself, taking care of herself – and with her white markings – she had to be Rogue.
Sunday, Leigh called with an offer: She would keep Rogue till I moved (end of October) as long as I promised I’d take her. Of course! I pledged. And so Rogue had her happy home with Leigh and Leigh’s three cats: Ringo, Snookie and Trixie. I think she ruled the roost pretty much right away, or co-ruled with Ringo. I went to see her just about every night. She seemed to know that I was hers. She also used the litter box right away and knew her name within a day or two.
Sept. 16, exactly four weeks after Rogue Day, I was giving myself a minivacation at Disney World when I got a message from Leigh: FOUR BABIES! Two gray, one all-black, one black-and-white, and a healthy, glowing, proud mama. I rushed over, and it was all just as she’d said. Rogue was proud and happy to share it all with us. We put her in the bathroom with the kids and just basked in the joy.
For the next six weeks I went over, again, almost every day. Both gray kittens were girls, and the other two were boys. One of the grays was super-snuggly and would love to be held for an hour and a half straight. The black-and-white, who looked to be the runt (and whom Godmother Leigh had found with Christmas wrapping paper stuck to him, looking last-born, in the closet where Mama had chosen to deliver), hated being held or away from Mama. He also had the hardest time getting a good spot to nurse (but he still thrived). The black started seeing how much Baby Gray loved the snugglin’, and began to crawl into my lap, falling asleep there, waking for a moment to mew his dreams at me and dropping off again. Miss Gray 2 liked to play but not be held quite as much as her sister, and became The Observer.
I can’t convey to you the joy of those earliest days, of raising them from scratch. It was just sheer, pure, golden light. I feel like they saved my life somehow. It has to be one of the most healing things on Earth.
I told Leigh she could name one. She suggested "Salem" for the all-black one, esp. as I was writing about the Massachusetts town that weekend for my wee travel column (now defunct). She also pegged the B&W "Otter," because of the way his little legs splayed out behind him. It wasn’t intended as his given name, but it stuck.
Snugglepants felt like a watery soul to me, and so she became Fathom. Miss Gray 2’s name started with a B, I could tell, and we settled on "Bliss."
At first I thought I’d keep Rogue and two kittens. One day I woke from that insanity, and here we all are today, the Fuzzy Five and me. Otter’s the biggest of the bunch now. I think he was so ticked off about never getting a good nursing spot and about being beat up when he was little that he made himself grow big. He was a total mama’s boy till we had a nasty bout of redirected aggression, and two years after the incident, they still hiss at each other and spar. Fathom often sleeps with me at night. Bliss needs me to be with her when she eats. Salem loves to snuggle on the couch, and I know the look in his eyes when he’s looking for a snoodle. Rogue, well, she’s just the most amazing cat you’ll ever meet. She’s the smallest of them, as she was just a kitten when she got pregnant (I figure she was 8 months old when she gave birth). She’s fearless.
So Rogue has two birthdays: all of January, and August 19. I don’t know which is more important; they balance each other out, I guess. In January 2000, she was born. But on August 19, she took me in.
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