No, I am not going to start posting about my two lovely felines every day of the week and updating you on their diet, antics and incredible shedding rate, but I am going to write a post about cats today, and probably tomorrow too ;-)
See, on Saturday, TSC and I were both feeling bleak. This was largely because of the abusive neighbours and the inept police. We decided that we should cheer ourselves up by driving a little way up the road (we live on the edge of town near where the small farms start) to find a place to take a long walk in the spring sunshine.
We were driving really slowly with the window down when we heard this desperate meowing. We thought perhaps a cat had got caught in the barbed wire fence, so we pulled over, crossed the road and starting calling. And this tiny ginger kitten came bounding out of a gutter and launched itself into my arms like a small orange (affectionate) missile.
It was so cute, purring away like a little generator. We looked around for more kittens or a mother, but couldn't find any. The little thing was skin and bones and was desperately trying to crawl into the nape of my neck to get closer (it didn't have much luck though, with my phobia of having anything near my neck. I kept trying to get it to just stay on my shoulder). We couldn't just leave it there, so we took it home.
It was dusty and had a scrape on its teensy nose, but it was so excited to be with us. We kept saying how it was full of beans. This expression prompted the name 'Bean'. Now ginger cats are almost always male (not sure why, but it's true), but Bean happened to be a little girl.
We debated keeping her and decided that we'd see how our cats reacted first. After stopping to buy her some kitten food and a bowl, we took her home. She wolfed that food down in about two seconds flat. She must have been starving. Our cats (the big pansies) were terrified of this little scrap of fur and headed as far away as possible. Not good.
We took our little beansprout to the vet, who confirmed her sex, provided some tick and flea ointment and dewormed her, and said she must be about eight weeks old. I asked the vet if our cats would adjust and she said maybe, but it would take a few months. Seeing we're moving in a few months, we didn't think ti would be fair on our cats to take on two huge new adjustments.
Fortunately, our (only) nice neighbour LOVES cats. She's been trying to convince her husband to let her get one, but he wasn't keen. Until he met little Bean, that is, so just won his heart with her affection and red-headed wiles (yes, as a ginger, I use those too. Not).
We handed her over with peaceful hearts, watching as Sandra cuddled the little bundle of fur to sleep in her arms. I'm very happy that she's found a good home, even if they did insist on renaming her Tinkerbell (?!?!?).
"It's Bean a good day," I said to TSC as we headed back to our unit. I just couldn't resist!
About the nasty neighbours: We have given them the details for the sister at the Teddybear Clinic, and they have promised to schedule an appointment today for later this week. I'll give the clinic a ring tomorrow and check whether or not that's been done, and we'll take it from there.