While I was in Virginia, my mom calls and tells me that our cat died. My dad was pretty upset. This was "his" cat. I didn't care for her much but that's probably just because I didn't bother with her. She was an old cat and therefore grumpy. Talk about scratches. My dad, on the other hand, loved the cat.
A few weeks later, as I'm in New York, I call my dad and ask if he is going to get another cat anytime soon. He says that a guy at work has some kittens that he is going to looking for homes for in a few weeks. Excitement level = ecstatic! I love kittens. So cute and playful! I ask my dad if we can get one. He says "maybe." My mom said "no." Long story short, my dad totally talked her into it and, a few weekends later, we were playing with eight little kittens trying to decide which to choose. Hardest decision ever. I fell in love (I mean, IN LOVE) with a little black & white one while my dad chose the runt. The compromise? A cute, black kitten with a white spot on his chest. We were told we could come back two weeks later to pick him up.
Two weeks later, I'm sitting in the back of the car with a box on our way to pick up our little kitten. We get there and our kitten is brought to us. Feisty little thing. Did not want to be held. I figured he was just scared. As we are standing around talking, the wife of my dad's friend says that a lady was looking at the black & white kitten I liked. She said that the lady wanted to have him declawed. Now I'm not 100% sure of what 'declawing' entails but it does not sound like something my little black & white kitten should endure. So. I gave my dad the puppy "papa bear, i love you" eyes. My dad asked them to bring the kitten up. I knew right when my dad asked for them to bring the cat up that I was getting him. My mother was standing there all "what is happening?" My dad said we'd take this kitten, too. Two kittens! I like to think we saved this kitten rather than stole it away from some other family. Cats need their claws man. Not saying they shouldn't be trimmed because if you look at my arms right now, you know that I'm 100% for the trimming of nails.
So now we have two cute little kittens running around the house. I love them. My dad's (the black one) is named George and mine is named Winston. Like George Winston the pianist. Yeah, we're cool. My mom still can't grasp the name Winston though. She calls him Watson and one time she called him Jackson. I just laugh.
The kittens have been good so far. No major disasters. The curtains are still hanging and the toilet paper isn't shredded...anymore. Winston only has about five of his lives left according to my Papa. They're just so cute. They don't stay in trouble for too long :)
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| My mom calls him a little devil. Among other things. |
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| I was packing. |
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| They seriously sleep like this all the time. |
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