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George and Louie

We mourned for about three days before taking the initiative to buy new kitties. We knew Bagheera’s passing was imminent so we had planned on getting everything cleaned up for a new furry friend (or two, in this case) to join us.

I went to the Humane Animal Welfare Society on Wednesday and met Mark and Murphy, two brothers and littermates whom took an instant liking to me when I visited. I spent over an hour and a half playing with them and called Mom gushing about how adorable they were. I filled out the application and set a time for them to be adopted since Mom had to meet them too.

I anxiously awaited today; we went kitty-toy-and-scratcher shopping, bought a cat condo on Amazon and I had to pack away my entire stash into clear plastic totes.

After not having a kitten in the house for about 19 years, it was painfully clear that our house was not kitten-worthy. We had wires and junk all over the place, we had declawed both Bagheera and Sabrina so we had no need for scratching posts, there were play-things that weren’t really play-things everywhere in the house. Fully knowing they would be getting into trouble no matter what, I still set off obsessing over where I could put things to keep out of reach of kitten-claws and imaginations.

We picked them up today and they were as lovey as ever and, after a traumatic drive home in a tee-tiny little carrier, we set them up in the basement with their litter box where they have been ever since. I’m hoping they emerge eventually and venture upstairs with all the toys and laser pointers.

So a formal introduction:

Here’s Mark; now to be known as Louie. Louie is a watcher, which is perfect because we have about a million birds in the bushes in front of the house, and squirrels and critters running around outside at all times. He’s got a white belly and white socks and is extremely loving and full of purrs. He loves the feather teaser and does the adorable kitten head-circle thing and he runs around in circles chasing it.

And here’s Murphy: Now to be known as George. George is the vocal one of the two. He meows and makes his presence known all the time. He likes climbing on things, and you can tell by the way he eyes up the countertop, he wants up and he’ll try soon. He purrs instantly when you pick him up but he doesn’t like to ‘fly’ when we pick him up and bring him to our full 5 footedness.

Mom is telling Louie about the dishwasher: This is the dishwasher; you do not go into the dishwasher, just like you do not go into the dryer. Cause this would be a very awful place to die.

They’re already terrified of the washing machine: we took them downstairs to show them the litter box and mom started a load of laundry. We found them 10 minutes later huddled in the back of the basement. We’ve since moved them to the upper level of the house only and we’ll spare them the trauma of being in the basement whenever the loud white machine of death is running for the time being.

They love wrestling and sharpening their claws on the oversized chair and coming to visit us as we wander around the house.

George sniffed at Clapotis sitting on the ottoman and kept walking. Clearly this is only one item but I’m hoping it’ll be the end of my possible issue with the cat-knitting mixture.

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