DrMrNin calls this ‘bumpkinish’. I call it energy efficient.

Once again it’s a windy day here in the bay. A perfect day blow dry my washing in the fresh northerly wind. I grew up with a washing line back in England and having one here now in my own back garden makes our house feel that little bit more like a home. Plus it’s a lot cheaper and better for my clothes than throwing them in the tumble drier xx

Visits to pumpkin patches the past two weekends have done nothing but confirm that autumn is by far my favourite time of year. Moreover, America does it very well, very well indeed.

This is Felicity Kitten, teeny, tiny, snugglebug extraordinaire. She will probably stay quite tiny.

This is Alistair Kitten, a purry little bruiser who is also quite a little snugglebug too. We expect he’s going to be quite huge.

Loveliness xxx

For the first few days, we kept the kittens and Chesterfield apart. I didn’t want them to meet until we had the OK from the vet that they were ‘clean’ and I didn’t want to rush anything and ruin a potential life-long friendship. So we took things slowly, very very slowly. Besides, DrMrNin was working a crazy 72 hour shift starting the morning after the kittens came to live with us and there was NO WAY I was going to attempt to do any such introductions without him, not with an unpredictable four-month-old who was practically guaranteed to scream at exactly the wrong moment. It was hard enough trying to get in there to play with them and feed them, but to then supervise a meet and greet? No. U-uh. All too stressful. For all of us. So the kittens had my sewing room all to themselves for the first couple of days, time to settle in, get to know the sounds and smells of the house and to catch up on some nice kitten sleep. And Chester had a couple of days to notice that there was something interesting in there, get used to the new sounds and smells, and to work up the courage to sniff around the door rather than run away from it.

Then late on Friday, I cracked the door open. Very slowly, and just a little bit. Just enough to see what was inside, what was creating the new sounds and smells. There was a little bit of hissing from the big white kitty, but through caution, not aggression. A little, gentle hiss, but with ears pricked forward in curiosity, a pair of beady eyes peeking through the door and a nose wafting the air. I watched for his cues and responded accordingly: more door open please, and ok I’ve had enough of that now.

This little door crack game continued the next day, and by Saturday evening (and with the return of DrMrNin) we had set up an old screen door in front of my sewing room so that they could gaze and sniff at each other either side of their respective territorial boundries. That night, there was enough curiosity from both parties for an actual meet and greet and we put the kitties in the travel crate, and let Chester into their room. It all seemed to go rather well and so we slowly and carefully opened the crate door and allowed them all to meet. Just for a little bit, mind. We didn’t want to rush things.

Again, there was a tiny little bit of precautionary hissing, but nothing too aggressive or anything. There was a little bit of rough and tumble but for the most part there was a mutual curiosity. We watched carefully as they made friends with each other. It was interesting to watch Chester as when he interacted with them individually, he was all confident in a This Is My House sort of way, but when it came to the two of them together he seemed to get a little overwhelmed. So we kept these little sessions short and sweet.

By the time Sunday morning came around, Chester meowed impatiently to get us out of bed. Overnight, we had kept the sewing room doors closed and he was insistent that they should be open again. Once again we set up the screen door and there was another day of gazing at each other through the mesh, and short bursts of supervised play. Slowly, slowly… after all.

Monday daytime, the same old routine: set up the screen and opened the door. By lunchtime, Chester was scaling the screen door and jumping in all by himself. That’s what we were waiting for. Chester was ready for them, so that night we opened up the front of the house which in the space of 30 seconds got turned into one big playroom for the cats. Then once again back into the sewing room for sleepytime.

Tuesday morning we opened up the doors to the sewing room, and they’ve stayed open ever since. And we have one big, happy, three-kitty family xxx

Last night the remnants of a Japanese typhoon blew in from across the Pacific bringing us the first big storm of 2009. Rain hammered against the windows and winds blew at about 50 mph and I sat in front of the window with my cup of tea enjoying every single second of it xx

Chesterfield Fitzwilliam Rupert was never meant to be an only kitten. When we set out to get felines back in January, we went with the intention that we would get a bonded pair, brothers, playmates, company for each other when their mummy and daddy went out, and this is why we fell over each other with glee when we found two little fluffy white brothers at the animal shelter. They were destined to come with us and we were as happy as could be. Here, weren’t they sweet? But then the most awful chain of events took place, Toby relapsed with a respiratory infection he had caught earlier from the shelter (both he and Chester had come down with URIs when they had first arrived there) and struggled to get better, the vet ran some tests and then the worst thing that happened did. The diagnosis was terminal, FIP, life had dealt poor Toby Kitten a horrible blow. Thereafter for the whole of February I devoted every fiber of my being to looking after poor sweet Toby Kitten. I tried so hard to give him the best life possible while it lasted and I like to think I did a good job. There will never be kitten who could have been more loved. It was devastating.

Not only did I feel sorry for Toby, he had been so brave right up to the end, but I was also heartbroken for Chester for he had lost his brother. He had become an only feline child which had never been in the plan. But then we moved and had the distraction of the new house, and as I was eight months pregnant at the time I didn’t really leave the place unless I really, really had to. So we hung out, kept each other’s company and tried to move on with things. Then the baby came and everything was all new all over again, but this time there were lots and lots and lots of visitors to provide entertainment. And having a newborn, I didn’t really leave the house very much. Chester’s nose was a little out of joint when he realised there was now another real life baby to compete with him for my attention and he would occasionally nip at my ankles, but he would never ever lay a paw on Baby Oliver Peach. If anything he became a protective older brother, listening out for squeals and cries, helping with diaper changes and the morning bath, and he thoroughly enjoyed all the new facilties, rapidly laying claim to the likes of beanbags and strollers in which he would cosy down and go to sleep.

But then as Oliver got older, and I started to go out to the likes of various doctor appointments and moms’ groups, problems started to arise. Sweet Kitten *hated* it whenever I left the house. As soon as I would reach for my shoes, he would tear from room to room like a little tornado, eventually winding up tangled around my ankles, grabbing, kicking and nipping at me, BEGGING me not to leave. It became such a drama each time that I would find myself having to sneak outside when he wasn’t looking, or formulate some grandiose distraction to be able to make it over the threshold of the outside door. It broke my heart each time. Even leaving the radio on when I was out didn’t help things. It was becoming abundantly clear: he would get achingly lonely whenever he was left on his own. Then on Tuesday it was so traumatic leaving the house to run an errand that I became desperate and sent an urgent text to DrMrNin: Chesterfield Kitten needs company, Chesterfield Kitten NEEDS A BROTHER. We decided to think about it. And think about it we did.

The next day I emailed DrMrNin. Perhaps you could stop by the vet on your way back from work to see if there are any signs up about kittens, I suggested. We could probably start keeping a look out over the next few months. After the incident with Toby Kitten, we had become highly cautious of adopting shelter cats. Not only did we not want to lose another pet, but we absolutely did not want to risk any shelter viruses coming into our home and infecting our precious Chester. Nope. Not a chance. No. Way. Whatsoever. So we were on the lookout for a home-birthed kitten, or one from a breeder. Somewhere that had an odd number and would let us take one kitten as a companion for Chester as many places will only let kittens go in twos. And there’s no way you can split a bonded pair. Absolutely no way. What sort of person could leave one kitten behind?

Not ten minutes later I recieved a phonecall. DrMrNin had been on Craigslist and found an ad for kittens in a neighbouring city. A lady had come back from a weekend away to find two little boy kittens and one little girl living in the engine of her husband’s truck, ohmygoodness! She had tried to call all the no-kill shelters in the area for someone to take them in, but they were all full and the one place that did say they would take them wanted to take money from her to do so. OHMYGOODNESS! Three little kittens. We could take a little brother for Chester, and the others could go to someone else as a bonded pair. Perfect! A little sooner than I had anticipated, but perfect nontheless.

Three kittens, a grey boy, an orange boy, and a calico girl. We would take the grey one.

We were informed that he was very sweet, and VERY CLEVER. He sounded like he would be able to hold his own. He sounded like a perfect match for Chester Kitten.

Within two hours, we were ready to get into the car. A little sooner than I expected, but we were in the car. Driving to get Chester Kitten a little grey brother. But there was just one thing…. the orange one had already found a home. To take the grey one, we would have to split a pair, something that I had told DrMrNin that I could never, ever do. I warned him, but he said he had a plan: we would still take the grey one, but we’d *only* take him back to live with us when the little calico girl had also found a home. That way she wouldn’t have to be alone. I sighed and reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat, issuing a warning that maybe we weren’t going to be coming back with a kitten after all.

But the little girl was so pretty. So petite, and perfect and tiny and pretty. So sweetly mewing to her brother. How could we split them up? How could we leave her behind?

It’s all or nothing, I issued. We either take them both, or leave them both behind. But that would mean three cats in the house. Three whole cats to feed, nurture and clean up after. Decisions. But maybe it might be easier for Chester Kitten if there are two already bonded? That way he wouldn’t feel forced to brefriend his one brother, as the two new kittens could stick together and Chester Kitten could do his own thing still and feel like an extra special kitty. Yet at the same time he wouldn’t have to be alone in the house any more. BRAINWAVE! Besides, there was no way I would allow myself to split a pair.

So now we have a little grey boy cat:

And yes you guessed it, a little calico girl cat too:

And now Chester Kitten has a baby brother and a baby sister, and I didn’t have to split a bonded pair Right now they’re snuggled up in my sewing room with big bowls of food, and a nice hot water bottle to keep them cosy. xxx

They haven’t formally been introduced properly yet, but things seem to be going well with lots of mutual interest either side of my sewing room door. Slowly, slowly, that’s how we will take it. But you want to know the interesting bit? In the short time since we’ve had them, there hasn’t been a single episode of Chester Bitey Kitten when I have either put my outside shoes on or left the house. So far it seems that we made the right decision. A little sooner than I had expected, bur very much the right decision.

Edited to add: they went to the vet earlier today. He thinks they’re about 10-12 weeks and judging by their eagerness to be around people, he thinks they were likely abandoned rather than being stray. They tested negative for feline leukemia and FIV and wer’e awaiting the toxicology report to check their insides which should be back tomorrow. Grey kitten had just a tiny bit of flea dust, but aside from that it ao far looks like a clean bill of health for them. Which again suggests abandonment . We’ll be getting them fixed as soon as they’re old enough and they have to go back in a couple of weeks for a set of booster shots.