I live with my new mom now. She was nice enough to pick me to come and live with her out of all the other kitties at the Edmonton Humane Society. The people there were really nice, but having a mom and mom of my own is even better. We're not sure how old I ma, because my papers say that I'm 2 years and nine months, but that my birthday us January 23, 2008, which would make me three. I guess me mom has to decide how old she wants me to be.
Obviously, I am a boy, and I have pale ginger tabby fur mixed in with while spots and big amber eyes. I look kind of like my big sister Milo, who was not pleased to see me when I got here! She hissed and growled whenever I came out, which made me very nervous, so I spent a lot of my first few days under one of the beds, or under the basement stairs. Mom didn't like that very much because she had no way to check on me to see if I was okay. Eventually, I can up and had some dinner when everyone else had gone to bed. I was just so overwhelmed by everything that had happened.
Earlier, at the shelter, they were having a big adoption event to try and find as many kitties furever homes as possible, so the nice ladies at the desk all the wonderful volunteers were doing their best to make sure that everyone got all the help they needed to take their new family members home as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, this meant that a bunch of us ended up on cardboard carried behind the desk while our paperwork was finishing up. I do not like confined spaces and managed to break my way out of the carried, so they had to find a stronger one for me. I was so upset. I didn't know what was going on. I'm sure you can imagine: being taken out of my big, warm kitty room (where my mom happened to be cuddling me) and put into a dark box surrounded by other kitties in boxes? It was very confusing.
My mom tried to calm me down as much as she could before she started to drive, but I just didn't like being locked up! I could tell how worried she was when got stuck in traffic on the way home. She let me out when I started biting at the metal bars on the carried, and I happily jumped in the back and went to sleep. It was very reassuring to here her telling me what I good boy I was, and how I was doing such a good job.
Then the car stopped behind a house, and I started panicking again. Mom tried to put me back in the box, but I wouldn't go, so she picked me up and hugged me to her chest but my flight reflex kicked in and a made a break for it. I dug my claws in a little too hard trying to get away and hurt her quite badly :-(. She managed to catch me before I could hide under the neighbors shed and we made it into the house. I didn't get the nice, calm introduction to my sister we were all hoping for because mom had to tend to the blood from the scratches I gave her.
Milo sniffed me while I sat there, afraid of this big new space and all the new smells. I didn't know what I should do, so I just let her growl and hiss until I could find a good place to hide. Eventually, mom got me to come out from under the bed with a little catnip and she showed me where everything is: food bowl, water fountain (one of my favourite things), litter boxes and all the cat approved places to sleep. They have delicious kibble here, and I can't seem to get enough.
Milo was a little grumpy for a while, but we're getting along better now. Mom put my old collar from the shelter on her so she could get more used to my smell and I think that it helped a lot. She likes to groom me when I have the patience for it, and sometimes we sleep near each other, but I'm still kind of a loner. I sleep on top of the bed now so mom can find me, and I can even be enticed to chase a ribbon. I didn't like being put back in a carrier to visit the vet, but once I was in the exam room, I was perfectly well behaved, and the vet said I'm doing great.
I do have a case of the sniffles and a bit of a cough, so I'll probably have to go and see him again next week to make sure that everything is okay. Mom has been fussing over me and making sure that I'm eating a drinking enough. It's nice to have someone who cares so much, and who loves giving me cuddles and pets and cheek rubs whenever I want. I like following her around and letting her know when I'm ready to be loved. All it takes is a little meow and she knows what I need. She's a great mom and I'm happy that I'm part of this family.
I have a dad too, but he doesn't live here so I don't get to see him all the time, but I love his voice. Whenever I here him, I come from wherever I've been sleeping to say hello, and when he has to go home, my new favourite place to sleep is on his pillow. I think that makes me mom a little jealous, but she should know that I love her the most.
My grandma and grandpa are pretty great too. Apparently, Grandpa doesn't like cats, but I couldn't tell. He was very nice to me. The both were, petting me and telling me how handsome and sweet I was. I think I lucked out with these people. I feel right at home.
