Our time with the kittens

We had been looking at kittens online for a while.  Kent was getting tired of me amusing myself by poking him in the ear while we were watching TV.  Whenever I'd do it, he'd sigh and say that I needed a cat.  So we were looking.

Kent had minor allergies to cats (itchy eyes and sniffles), so we did some research to see what would minimize dander.  Some cats are hypoallergenic but purebreds are super pricey.  We learned that female cats put off less allergens than males (especially unfixed males but who would have one of those around?), and shorthairs have less hair surface area to hold on to allergens.  Since we work so much we decided to get two so they could interact while we were gone all day.  So, we were aiming for sister litter mates with short fur.

We went to the SPCA a couple of weeks ago and, as previously where we entered a place with a lot of cats, Kent started sneezing.  He was sneezing both before and during us going in to meet "Knicki and Knuckles", a pair of 4-month-old sisters who were not afraid of us and playful.  We went home alone that day, but went back the next day and straight to them to see what kind of reaction Kent had.  He was a little itchy, but not bad, so we took them home.  Kent unfortunately had to leave right away for a business trip while I stayed with the kittens.

I had to make some unexpected changes.  We were keeping them in the sun room, and had already moved out the plants, but I couldn't figure out why the tablecloth on the table in there kept ending up on the floor.  I thought they were playing with loose threads - duh.  They were trying to jump up there, not quite making it, then pulling the tablecloth off with them.  First I put on a table pad, then 3 layers of table pad, then banker's boxes to weigh everything down, then I had to tape the banker box lids on because OMG BOXES WHAT IS IN THERE?  I forgot how kittens are.

So, we settled into a routine during the week.  I'd feed them when I got home in the evenings (so they wouldn't meow at 6 am on weekends), and I brushed them and wiped them down with a washcloth and played with them and thought of possible names.  Knicki was friendly from the get-go, but Knuckles was a little standoffish until after the washcloth wipe down.  I must have reminded her of a momcat cleaning her up.  When they played, they often poofed up like Halloween cats, and when they were relaxed they let me pet them and touch their bellies and paws.  They played a lot with paper balls and a stuffed mouse.  Knicki would let me pet her even when she was playing, but I learned not to try to take a toy from Knuckles.  She got the mouse stuck in her collar once and when I tried to touch it to free it, she swatted me without claws.  Fair enough, I let her get the mouse herself.

The stuffed mouse was the best.  It was pretty big - about the size of their head - and they would kill it over and over and over, ripped its ears off, and the funniest thing was they started taunting each other with it.  One would walk by, and if the other one wasn't showing interest immediately, the taunter would bat her on the head to stir up trouble.

Poopy coming running to her name

The kitties may have been a little upset in their stomachs.  I never saw any evidence of not using the litter box, but there was a funky smell on and off for several days.  So when Kent came home, we started calling the kittens Stinky and Poopy, not least of which because we couldn't do it without laughing.  "Hi Poopy!" bringing a purring furball over?  Funny.  We were still trying to think of names and were planning on getting a cat tree and releasing them to the house.  That is, until Kent started having trouble breathing a couple of hours after coming home.

He suffered through Friday night, and even going into the kitten room on Saturday morning set off another attack.  He couldn't pet them or play with them, and we had to keep them in the sun room.  We made an appointment to return the kittens the following weekend and hoped that exposure would calm his system down.

It didn't.

By midweek, Kent couldn't even be downstairs, because whatever the kittens were emitting was coming through the screen and into the room.  It was clear that we couldn't keep them.

We called yesterday to see if we could bring them in after their vet appointment Friday afternoon, and they said to just bring them down and they would take care of the exam themselves.  So, I played with them and fed them the last of the canned food, and pet them, and tried not to think of new names, and I bundled them back into their boxes, took their scratching pad and mouse and took them back to the shelter.  They cried in the car but I didn't start to cry until we got there.  I knew it was the best thing to do, but it broke my heart thinking of them being scared and lonely.

When the paperwork was done I started crying in earnest and couldn't even open the boxes to say goodbye, I couldn't bear to look at their scared little faces.  So I left.  I hope they got to keep their toys.  Kent felt terrible too since he liked them, but not being able to breathe wasn't going to work.

They should have no trouble finding someone to take them home.  I hope they both go together and are happy.    Goodbye, Stinky. Goodbye, Poopy.  I miss you very much and wish we could have kept you with us.