Outnumbered

Our new boys—three weeks ago

After our cat Cecil suddenly died last year, I announced that I wanted no more pets once Cecil’s brother Beanie dies. Cecil’s death had been so unexpected and devastating, I just couldn’t stand the thought of going through it all over again in 15 years when we’d be well into our 70s.

But then Beanie got seriously ill—from a broken heart and loneliness—and I began imagining my life without cats—not a happy thought. Coincidentally, my long-time friend Karen H. emailed, saying that a stray cat had dropped a litter of kittens in her garage. I could feel myself starting to melt. She then sent photos and, sure enough, there were two orange tabbies, looking very much like a young Beanie and Cecil. They joined our family three weeks ago. Yesterday, they turned three months old.

Yesterday

The first order of business was, of course, figuring out their names. Because of their prominent ears, I immediately thought of "Spock" and "Quark"—two favorite Star Trek characters known for their unusual lobes—but instead wanted names that reflected the fact that they’re brothers. So we settled on Jack and Bobby, though we doubt either of them will ever have any political aspirations. 

Bobby—or is it Quark?

Next up: preparing the house for invasion!

 Can you find the cat (Jack) in this picture?

Beanie and Cecil were six months old and already neutered when we brought them home 14 years ago. They tromped around and wrestled. We laughed and were entertained, but never really had to change our lifestyle to accommodate them. Ten-week-old kittens take craziness to a whole new level, however. Nothing escapes their eye and everything—no matter how priceless or fragile—is fair game. All perishables are now either packed away or moved to a shelf at least four feet off the ground.

The first hour of every day consists of emptying litter and replenishing food and water bowls. The boys then help me make the bed and do whatever other chores need to be done that morning. They especially love the broom, which provides endless fascination. I work at home, so they often join me in my office until I ban them for being too distracting. Beanie and I both like when they conk-out for a few hours after having spent all their energy playing. 

Beanie, by the way, didn’t know what to make of them, at first, and would run away whenever they approached. But now they have all seemed to reach some sort of feline detente, thanks mostly to Bobby’s good-natured diplomacy, and all three sleep with us at night. Tim and I are definitely outnumbered!

Detente: watching TV with Mommy (Jack, Bobby and Beanie)

Bobby on Beanie's tail

Mom's office chair

Conked-out