A Foundling!

There I was, sittin' on the couch, knittin' on the scarf, watching Dr Phil, (I know, I know) when there came a knock on the door. It was my young next-door neighbor asking if I had lost my cat. Now, I hadn't, of course; Evangeline and Lilliane do NOT go outside unless they're in the carrier, as in en route to le docteur.

But there is a fine, handsome Siamese name of Oliver who occasionally meanders through. He has a collar and nice bright tag with his family's phone number, and a few weeks ago Mr Dearling found him and called. They said HE isn't supposed to go out either, but does (been there, done that - Othello was a veritable Houdini). So if we see Oliver and can catch him, we can put him on a leash and carry him home. I figured this must be Oliver, so I took up my leash and followed the lad over to his driveway.

Not Oliver

Mais NON! It was a wee kitty, under the van. I held out my hand and he came straight to me, so I picked him up and snorgled him and he cuddled and purred.

Now, you don't just carry a new kitten into a house where there are two established kitties in residence. At least not if one of them is Mistress Evangeline, wildly-territorial Daughter of Bast who only just tolerates her sister of two years, Lilliane. So the poor little thing was subjected to the following:

1. I put him in a cupboard in the garage - no windows, but plenty of air;
2. I tore into the house and grabbed our cat carrier;
3. I put a bowl of food and a bowl of water into it;
4. I took it out to the garage where there was a LOUDLY COMPLAINING young kitty!

I took him out and dropped him into the carrier, where he immediately began eating the food and purring. NOTE: our carrier is very heavy cardboard with a domed lid of clear heavy plastic, so at least I could see him and he could see out.

After some consultations with Mr Dearling, who was out having his daily constitutional, (see, it's true, for all my resistance cell phones CAN be a real boon!) I took him over to our Kind and Friendly Vet's clinic. They checked him out in a very quick ( free ) way, and pronounced him:

1. Actually a boykit;
2. Entirely free from fleas, ticks or earmites {whew};
3. In good shape, and
4. "My GARSH but he's a sweet little bundle of purrs!"

That last was a legitimate and profound medical opinion, of course. So I bundled him home, where he is (as we speak) ensconced in the den, AKA my Writing Room, with his own litter pan, bowl of water and bowl for food - which he cleaned up instantly. I sat with him for a while initially, and he snuggled into my lap and washed himself and purred, LOUDLY. After a little more snorgling he looked around, curled up on the folded blanket placed on the futon for his lounging pleasure, and fell into the sound sleep of a warm, safe, tummy-full kitten.

Present Status:

I called our Shelter and reported finding him, and e-mailed them his picture. He will stay here for a few days, at least, until either his forever family calls the Shelter, finds out that he's here and calls for him; or we take him to the Shelter where, after all shots and exams and removal of itty bits, he will be adoptable (and doubtless adopted, see medical diagnosis above); OR....he'll be in quarantine here while Evangeline and Lilliane sniff around the doorway - then, after a number of days, are allowed to see him through a teetiny crack in the door, followed by a VERY slow and gradual introduction period.

THEN, if Evangeline seems to be fiercely pissed off but NOT murderous, he may receive a name and just, you know, move in.

Right now Lilliane has sniffed around the door a bit and seems mildly curious. I think her personality is such that she won't be hostile at all....but I'd put Evangeline in the basement while carrying the foundling into the house in the carrier. She hasn't seen him and so far hasn't walked past his room. The only indication I think she's had is his scent on my skirts, and she hissed at Lilliane for no apparent reason. She's VERY territorial, and makes very deep growlings and yowlings when Oliver is outside the window where she can see him.

I was a little surprised by Mr Dearling, however! He said he "might not be averse" to having young Master Foundling stay here, PROVIDED, of course, that the other kitties get used to the idea.

Z-z-z-z-z-z-z (burp) z-z-z-z-z-z-z

So....it's all a very big UNKNOWN at Chez My House. Progress reports will follow!