At Heedley’s Hens, we have non-chicken life forms, too. There’s Billie, our Great Dane, of course, and our three cats, Savanna, Lucius Malfoy, and, as of a few months ago, Oliver. You would think that we have a full house, wouldn’t you? You would think that we had enough on our plates and the doors would be closed.
You would be wrong, it turns out.
The Man’s Mother is a cat person. Nay, a cat savior. In addition to her own seven, she cares for the feral cats in her backyard: shelter, food, cream, everything.
The first week of June, she found a litter of four kittens in her cat shelter, just days old. Last week, they were of an age to be adopted. It was The Man’s Mother’s plan to trap the babies and bring them to the Humane Society. Later, she would use the Have-A-Heart trap to capture Momma, Daddy and Brother cats, have them neutered and returned to her yard.
Yes. Until The Man got a look at the kittens. You see, one of them had very similar marking and colouring to a cat he had as a boy. Suddenly, we decided we had room in our family for one more lost soul.
It’s been challenging. I haven’t had a very small kitten in many, many years, and this one is feral, torn from his family. I’ll keep you posted as he progresses, but I just wanted to introduce him to you:
It took us a few days to come up with a name, but we finally have it. The Man and I are single malt scotch aficionados, and we decided to name him after our favourite: Abelour’s A’Bunadh. He’s going to be a big boy, and when he’s grown, his name will be Beast. Until then, we’ll call him Wee Beastie.
He’s learning to like cuddles and how to play with toys. It will be some time before he’s ready for gen pop, though…