Have a happy day, everyone!  Jim and I will be enjoying dinner at home, courtesy of Savoury Lane, with the woodstove and the cats.  (Maybe next year we’ll make it to Nantucket for our once-annual Valentine’s trip, but the economy is way too dicey this year for such a splurge.)  Hope you all have a wonderful holiday, and here’s to peace and love reigning for a day.

We’re happy to report that two weeks ago Max (now known as Duncan) moved to a wonderful new home, and now has a cat best friend who actually likes to play with him!

And Ophy and Pippa are happy to report that their lives are back to normal – mostly napping, some eating, and absolutely NO kitten attacks!  So while Jim and Abby miss Max’s youthful exuberance, we’re all thrilled to be back in our regular groove, and doubly thrilled that Max ended up in such a terrific home.  Thanks, Susan and Chris!

24 toes can cause a lot of trouble, especially when they’re connected the mind of a kitten.  I love Max dearly, but this living-with-a-kitten thing is new to me.  I’m used to staid, tired older cats who loll around most of the day.

Yesterday Max found the steel wool next to the kitchen sink while we were out running errands.  He doesn’t appear to have suffered any ill effects, but he sure did a number on that poor piece of now-discarded steel wool.

This morning I went to fill up my Camelbak water bottle, and couldn’t find the squishy little tip that you’re supposed to drink through.  After taking it out of the dishwasher, I had laid the three bottle pieces out on the first shelf of the upper kitchen cabinet to dry.  Ophy and Pippa have never touched anything in the cabinets (we don’t have cabinet doors), so I didn’t give it a second thought.  But, blech, I will from now on.  The squishy little drinking tip was under our oven, all covered in lint and yucky stuff.  Yuck yuck yuck.  To his credit, Max supervised and “helped” while I fished it out.

And yesterday morning, Max “helped” Jim scoop the litterboxes.  We use Feline Pine, and Jim sifts the used sawdust out into a bag for disposal.  As Jim was working, Max watched attentively…then pounced on the bag, sending an enormous puff of urine-laced sawdust up into Jim’s face.  (Once more, Jim proved what a great guy he is – mad as hops, but didn’t say a harsh word to little Max.)

So cute, but so troublesome.  Ah, little guy, what will we do with you?

We have a small furry houseguest.  Chances are good that he’s just a guest, and won’t be living with us permanently, but we’re certainly enjoying his company while he’s here.

So here’s the story:  my coworker Susan has a neighbor who found a four month old kitten in her yard.  The neighbor says that the kitten must have been outside for a couple of days, and he literally leaped into her arms.  The neighbor and her husband are decidedly NOT pet people (I think one or both of them has allergies), and they walked the neighborhood hoping to find the owner of this kitten (and took him to a vet to see if he had a chip implanted, which he didn’t).  Ultimately, they talked to Susan and her husband, and knowing that Susan and spouse had a cat, they somehow got Susan fully involved in trying to find a home for this little guy.

After a few days, the neighbor was getting antsy, and told Susan that if a home wasn’t found for the kitten, he’d be going to a shelter – or maybe back out on the street.  The deadline was 7 PM last night, and Jim and I decided to rise to the occasion and foster the kitten until we can find him a good home (and we have several “hot” leads, so, please, no one volunteer right now to take him!).

We picked the kitten up this morning; our vet was kind enough to stop by and examine him an hour later; and he’s proved to be both very healthy and very, very good natured.  A star patient for Dr. Reiner: after having blood drawn for the feline leukemia test, he purred madly and waited patiently for the next procedure.  Didn’t blink after being given a pill for his worms.  Didn’t complain about being given a rabies shot and feline distemper shot.  Got a bit frisky after having his claws trimmed, but one claw did get trimmed a bit short and bled a bit, so we’ll forgive him.

After passing the physical exam (no feline leukemia, no fleas, no ear mites), the vet gave us clearance to let Max roam the house freely and interact with Ophy and Pippa.  He’s a scrappy little fella, and has arched his back and hissed a bit at the girls, but so far no fights have broken out.  At the moment, all three cats are with me in the dining room, by the woodstove.  And yes, I know, we probably shouldn’t have named him, but it’s hard to just call him “Cat” or “Buddy.”  Max suits him.

Here’s a photo of the cutie, a talkative little lovebug who weighs almost five pounds at barely four months of age, and has extra toes on every single paw (click on image to enlarge):