We now return to KITT-FM, where it's all kittens, all the time. And now, heeeeere's your hostess, broadcasting live from our studios in Purrbank, Cat-ifornia - Mother Catresa!
My name is Kellie. And I'm still a kitten-aholic. And this weekend, I relapsed.
OK, now you really need to say it: "Hi Kellie!"
No, don't worry, I'm not hitting the booze or the cigarettes again. But I have fallen off the cat-caine wagon, since I brought home two new, adorable, sweet kittens on Friday! It was a delightful encore after what I thought was my kitten season finale. These beautiful babies - Rebecca and Radcliff, a sister-and-brother, black-and-grey-tabby combo - needed a place to go as they recover from an upper respiratory infection, though they have recovered from most of it. They also need to gain some weight as they await their spay-neuter surgery. Their old foster mother didn't want them back, because they were so lovable that she thought she was getting too attached. I definitely can see why.
Rebecca has the standard mackerel tabby pattern, which has small stripes all over. Radcliff has a classic pattern, which is peculiarly named because the coloring is more rare. He has black and grey swirls around his body, like a marble cake. It's as if someone took a spatula, stuck it in two batters of fur colors, and twirled it around. Both kittens are very affectionate, eager for attention, playful and full of energy. Yes, I am a smitten kitten already.
Radcliff and Rebecca are just the fix I need before I enter the long, dreary period of kitten-less winter sobriety. So, I'm going to love them to pieces, and enjoy every minute of it.
Regarding the title of this post - "Catch me, I'm falling (off the wagon)!" - on second thought, don't. I'm doing just fine, thanks. :)
Meanwhile, Darius - my long-term, boomerang, manic adult foster whom I started calling "King Darius of Purrsia" - and Rachael Ray, another sweet boomerang from last year, have returned to the shelter and are on the adoption floor. I really miss them, especially Darius, since I had him for a few months. But I know it's for the best. G.G. may miss the big oaf, but Rum Tum and Dharma certainly don't. Grandpa Rum Tum, my senior cat, is just now starting to come out from hiding under my bed, where he spent most of his time whenever Hurricane Darius was on the loose. I think R.T. is now confident that the coast is clear.
I am praying for all of my kids at the shelter - including Butter "Butthead" Pecan, the buff-colored kitten from my last litter - that the purrfect home soon comes along. Believing friends, won't you join me please?
Until next time, I remain,
Patron Saint of Homeless Felines
(and the "smitten kitten")