Kitten Smuggling
This morning, BIL, DH, and I managed to sneak away under the guise of running errands (we really did need to pick up things). We met FIL at the rescue shelter in Jacksonville for the purpose of kitten advising.
I hadn't been in the room a minute yet when a beautiful white-tabby male came rubbing up to me, purring. I played with him for a bit and decided to say hello to the other kitties. The little guy followed me, continuing to rub up against me. He was in seventh heaven when I picked him up, cuddling against me, his motor running. I thought he was perfect.
DH's favorite was a smaller/younger white-tabby male, whom I thought was a bit of a loner. BIL's favorite was a 12-week-old grey male (the smallest and youngest one in the room), who jumped in my lap when I sat down on the bench. I have a few teeth marks on my right hand thanks to him. He sure was a little spazz. Meanwhile, I was petting my guy with my left hand.
FIL couldn't decide. Which one? Each of us advisers pointed to a different one. "You guys are no help." I made a case for my buddy: "he may almost be full grown, but that's a positive; you already know he turned out to be a sweetie. Look how affectionate he is." FIL nixed my pick first: "too big. I think it's between him and him" (pointing at the smaller kittens).
DH's kitty was much more handsome and less spazzy, but in the end, FIL chose the smallest kitten. We three advisers went home, and FIL took the grey tasmanian devil to the offices (owning a firm has its advantages) where he remains. FIL's secretary has been watching Taz since he left to take his mother to Mass.
We don't want the kitten to be alone, so when DH, BIL, and I leave to fetch SIL from BWI, I'll be dropped off at FIL's offices to play with the kitten. They'll pick me up on the way back. The plan is to have SIL distract MIL while I smuggle the kitten upstairs.
Cross your fingers that Taz doesn't give himself away with loud mewing. Actually, I think he looks like a Thor - don't ask why, but I don't get to name him. They'll probably give him a sissy name like Fluffy or Mr. Whiskers.
If the smuggling goes well, Taz/Thor/Puck/Narcissus will be presented to MIL after dinner.
I keep thinking about my guy though. I wish I could take him home to California with me. :( DH got a bit verklemt thinking of all the homeless cats. I wish I had a giant house so I could have a dozen. I'll make a big donation once I get home.
I hadn't been in the room a minute yet when a beautiful white-tabby male came rubbing up to me, purring. I played with him for a bit and decided to say hello to the other kitties. The little guy followed me, continuing to rub up against me. He was in seventh heaven when I picked him up, cuddling against me, his motor running. I thought he was perfect.
DH's favorite was a smaller/younger white-tabby male, whom I thought was a bit of a loner. BIL's favorite was a 12-week-old grey male (the smallest and youngest one in the room), who jumped in my lap when I sat down on the bench. I have a few teeth marks on my right hand thanks to him. He sure was a little spazz. Meanwhile, I was petting my guy with my left hand.
FIL couldn't decide. Which one? Each of us advisers pointed to a different one. "You guys are no help." I made a case for my buddy: "he may almost be full grown, but that's a positive; you already know he turned out to be a sweetie. Look how affectionate he is." FIL nixed my pick first: "too big. I think it's between him and him" (pointing at the smaller kittens).
DH's kitty was much more handsome and less spazzy, but in the end, FIL chose the smallest kitten. We three advisers went home, and FIL took the grey tasmanian devil to the offices (owning a firm has its advantages) where he remains. FIL's secretary has been watching Taz since he left to take his mother to Mass.
We don't want the kitten to be alone, so when DH, BIL, and I leave to fetch SIL from BWI, I'll be dropped off at FIL's offices to play with the kitten. They'll pick me up on the way back. The plan is to have SIL distract MIL while I smuggle the kitten upstairs.
Cross your fingers that Taz doesn't give himself away with loud mewing. Actually, I think he looks like a Thor - don't ask why, but I don't get to name him. They'll probably give him a sissy name like Fluffy or Mr. Whiskers.
If the smuggling goes well, Taz/Thor/Puck/Narcissus will be presented to MIL after dinner.
I keep thinking about my guy though. I wish I could take him home to California with me. :( DH got a bit verklemt thinking of all the homeless cats. I wish I had a giant house so I could have a dozen. I'll make a big donation once I get home.