A few weeks ago, Darwin charged full-speed into the house from the back yard, dove onto the couch and frantically started licking and nuzzling something. His back end was to me, so I couldn’t see what it was.
When I got to him, I discovered he had brought in a small, young kitten and was cleaning it. He loves baby anything so I wasn’t surprised by his caring and nurturing behavior, I was surprised however by the kitten’s presence. I still have no idea how she got into our fenced-in backyard.
I herded all the boys away from her, flinched back when she tried to bite my hand then I grabbed a towel. Boy, was she a hissy, pissy, unhappy kitten! If I hadn’t toweled her, I’m sure I’d be on antibiotics for dozens of puncture wounds and lacerations. Never piss off a cat, no matter how small! Respect them…they will cut you!
Speaking of cutting, cut to now…
With a lot of patient coaxing and light petting on her terms only, she has come around. She’ll lay in our arms and purr. She’s curious but fearful of the dogs. Darwin, however, is determined to make her love him and he smells, licks and sweetly nuzzles her until we chase him away.
Last night, The Husband and I talked about giving her a name. Here’s the recap…
Omar: What are we gonna name her?
Me: How about Tater Pie?
Omar: I was thinking Sweet or Sweetie?
Me: No. How about Tater Pie?!
Omar: You are not calling her Tater Pie.
Omar: They respond better to names that end in an “ee” sound. Like Sweetie…
Me: Sweet Tater Pie!!!!
Omar: Go play in traffic.