The Christmas Kittens
the boys share their story
We want to thank the wonderful crew at FieldHaven for hooking us up with these darling kittens. They were originally dubbed the Christmas Kittens, named Jingles, Navidad, and Tiny Tim. We renamed them after a couple of weeks of getting to know them. Tiny Tim has a knack for finding me wherever, whenever, and in the beginning would not come out of hiding until he heard my voice in a room. He also has a look of pure adorable innocence, and we all know he is usually a big part of whatever trouble they've gotten into. His new name is Radar. Navidad is the quirky goofball of the brood, and good for a laugh just about any time. He is also a big time Mama's Boy, and I just love it! He also "clings" to everything: curtains, pants (moving targets are the best), chairs, the side of the bed... We have given him the name Klinger. Because these first two names fit, we just had to find a third M*A*S*H* name for Jingles, and because he is such a dashing and devious fellow, we call him Trapper now. (He can trap a bouncy ball faster than any cat I've ever had!) These boys have taken to us, and our kids, really well and I think it's safe to say they are now in charge of this household. I'd say there is never a quiet moment, but they do nap regularly and all at once, usually all snuggled together. I'm so glad we could get them as a group, and again want to thank all the volunteers who helped get us together! (And a special thanks to their Foster Mom, who took such good care of them to begin with!) Without further ado, "da boyz" would like to share their first couple of months here with you ...
From Klinger (aka Navidad - grey and white) ...
I miss my Mommy. Or rather, I miss nursing with my Mommy! Fortunately, my new Mom is cool with this, and she wears nice soft sweaters just for me to knead and slurp on. I soaked all of her pajamas with my drool at night, so she got me this neat furry buddy and rubbed it with kitty smells and catnip. We call it Nurse Nelly. Now I can suckle away at 2:00 a.m. and Mom wakes to the sweet sound of my happy motor (and now my brother's, because I've taught him how much fun it is to suck on this poor little stuffed animal). Mom says it's all good, because she stays warm and dry, and she just loves to listen to us purr. I give her plenty of dry snuggles during the day, too. Oh, and I've found my voice! I sing beautifully. I sing when I'm playing, I sing when I'm lonely, I sing loud and soft. Mom says my best song is the "Siren Song" because I start soft, then belt it out and fade away again, like a siren passing on the road.
From Radar (aka Tiny Tim - white with black ear & tail) ...
I have conquered this house. I know every nook and cranny. I have found the most interesting things for Mom, things she forgot even existed, way back in the corners and under furniture. When my new Dad brought me home, I zeroed in on a small space beneath the bathroom cabinet and crawled up inside so nobody could find me. That worked for a couple of hours to calm my nerves, until the scent of tuna pulled me out. After a few of days (and lots of time nesting in a tight spot amid lots of squished pillows under the bed) I decided the brothers were having too much fun without me. Well, I showed them. I just popped my head out and found that nice Mom lady, and you know, she protected me from the big bad world. Over the next few days, if I sensed she was in the area, I joined her and we explored together. She's kind of fun to cavort with! I've learned about every single room, and now I run faster than everybody, from one end of the house to the other. Stairs are my favorite. I am a blur of white! I've also decided that "nice guys finish last" and it is soooo true at the feeding trough. I smell the food a mile away, and I have learned how to get food away from my brothers, so have filled my tummy out nicely. (Don't you worry, I'm going to be Mr. Tuff Guy someday, and I'm getting plenty of exercise to keep myself buff!).
From Trapper (aka Jingles - black & white) ...
You know, this tuxedo coloring of mine does require a modicum of decorum. I have more couth in my whiskers than
either of my brothers. I walk politely, I mew politely, I ogle people in the shower politely. I am a thinker, too.
I think about whether that food is worth growling over, I think about who's tail that is that I'm about to bite
(and sometimes it's mine! - so maybe I need more practice thinking about that!), and I think about the best way to
get my brothers stuck in a tight spot, like the inside back of the TV cabinet. (Hey, it's warm back there.) I can
organize a social event like nobody's business, because I am a leader. I lead the brothers downstairs for breakfast,
I lead them upstairs for bedtime, and I lead them on some wild adventures with bouncy-balls, vases of twigs, toilet
paper, shoelaces, etc. I don't know what they'd do without me! I'm the life of the party around here! There was some
discussion that I might be misnomered, as they sometimes think of me as Mr. Bond. James Bond. Whoever that is!
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