Hi! I'm Steff. My partner's name is Erin. My kidlings are five and seven. And we somehow, inexplicably, ended up with ten cats.
The first was Mike and Ray. We lost our Ray; she was fine, and then only hours later, she died in our arms -- I had just gotten home from work, late at night. Both were street cats, brother and sister, we took in, got vet care, etc. Ray's loss was devastating; we barely had her a month, and we lost her. But we continued on with Mike, and then a woman with cancer was getting rid of her cat Fergie. We took in Fergie, and then it was Mike and Fergie.
Then, one night after I'd taken Mike for his walkies, there was a cat. A slim, big-eared tortie who was massively pregnant. She all but leaped into my arms with a meow and started clinging. My partner immediately took her inside, upstairs and named her. I facepalmed, but went along with it.
We took Reinette to the vet, we had her tested and dewormed. They said she'd probably give birth in a week, maybe two, to four kittens. She waited three and a half weeks and had six. She woke Erin up meowing, and insisted upon being loved through the birth.
The kittens remained unnamed for quite some time. In the meantime, living in an area of very high cat abandonment, we did our best for the outside strays and one, in particular, named Arthur was so sweet that after all his vet care, including neutering, he wanted desperately out to make friends. So. Mike gained a new pal. It's done wonders for Mike's disposition; he was always a good cat, but a bit prickly sometimes. Now he has a guy friend to play with.
In the meantime, the kittens just turned nine weeks old. Two are going to a new home together at twelve weeks. They are: William, Shawn, Bagheera, Molly, Calleigh, Grace; two black, three gingers and a calico. They and their mother go in for spay/neuter, vaccination, etc. on Wednesday.
Somehow, all of this happened in less than a year, and money earmarked for vacations and everything else has gone into vet care and food and everything else, but I don't think I'd change a thing.
Nice to meet you all!
The first was Mike and Ray. We lost our Ray; she was fine, and then only hours later, she died in our arms -- I had just gotten home from work, late at night. Both were street cats, brother and sister, we took in, got vet care, etc. Ray's loss was devastating; we barely had her a month, and we lost her. But we continued on with Mike, and then a woman with cancer was getting rid of her cat Fergie. We took in Fergie, and then it was Mike and Fergie.
Then, one night after I'd taken Mike for his walkies, there was a cat. A slim, big-eared tortie who was massively pregnant. She all but leaped into my arms with a meow and started clinging. My partner immediately took her inside, upstairs and named her. I facepalmed, but went along with it.
We took Reinette to the vet, we had her tested and dewormed. They said she'd probably give birth in a week, maybe two, to four kittens. She waited three and a half weeks and had six. She woke Erin up meowing, and insisted upon being loved through the birth.
The kittens remained unnamed for quite some time. In the meantime, living in an area of very high cat abandonment, we did our best for the outside strays and one, in particular, named Arthur was so sweet that after all his vet care, including neutering, he wanted desperately out to make friends. So. Mike gained a new pal. It's done wonders for Mike's disposition; he was always a good cat, but a bit prickly sometimes. Now he has a guy friend to play with.
In the meantime, the kittens just turned nine weeks old. Two are going to a new home together at twelve weeks. They are: William, Shawn, Bagheera, Molly, Calleigh, Grace; two black, three gingers and a calico. They and their mother go in for spay/neuter, vaccination, etc. on Wednesday.
Somehow, all of this happened in less than a year, and money earmarked for vacations and everything else has gone into vet care and food and everything else, but I don't think I'd change a thing.
Nice to meet you all!