Big Brave Steps & Memories

I think it's becoming quite clear who the regular poster is here. The saying "no rest for the wicked" certainly applies to me. The glamorous life of fashion, photography and graphic design is often expressed by a woman who hasn't washed or slept for days, in a corner of an office slaving over a computer screen she can barely see because her eyes have given out in protest.

But enough about me...

Dale lovingly brought home a bottle of rum tonight and I have indulged just enough to work up the courage to upload the photos from my camera to the computer. I haven't been able to bring myself to do this since the passing of Bitey & Red but it's not a kitty blog without photos and Dorah and Cheeky deserve their time in the spotlight. If it's one thing these little ones have confirmed for me, it's that I'm no good at grief. I am, however, good at showing cute pictures from my camera!!

Dorah and Cheeky are approaching the 5 week mark. I think they are quite small for their age but they are growing rapidly. They eat almost their body weight each day so I should certainly hope so! They are starting to act like the kittens most people know, with a new achievement each day. Today's achievement? Playing with a ball!

These guys still need to be bathed every day (well ok, every other day - wet ones are a miracle product) even though they can groom themselves all over now (finally learned all their kitty yoga moves) they just don't seem to be able to sustain it for long enough to actually get themselves clean. So here are some shots from their last big bath. They don't much like being soaked, but they do enjoy the cuddles afterwards!


Retrospective - Addy's Story
Addy was our 5th foster kittten - the one that broke me. After weeks having him at my side, I just couldn't let the little guy go and he is currently wreaking havoc all over the room next to me playing silly buggers with Candy (his adopted sister).

This picture was taken in the first few days of having addy with us. Just to give some perspective, the width of the "cat throne" he is on is 45cm. Not a large kitty!

We were actually still fostering our first brood (Lois, Clarke, Diana and Lara) when Addy joined the crew. We had taken the others back to the Animal Welfare League to be weighed and checked and this little man came in - fairly late in the afternoon. He had been found wandering the Gold Coast streets by himself, separated from mum and litter by events untold. The foster co-ordinator had no place for him to stay over the weekend and figured she would have to take him home with her, but didn't really have the room. We happily took him home to join the others, knowing the brilliant enclosure Dale built could house 5 kittens easily, and then some!

Addy was (and still is) a very loving and curious little guy, but also very reserved. He didn't vocalise or purr and he still doesn't to this day. You might get a very strained meow if he is hankering for some cat milk but that's about the extent of his vocalisation. Unless you step on his tail - then you know his voice box works! (only by accident - promise!). He loves to play and while he was smaller than any of our other cats, would play with all of the foster litter, and even our adult cat Poppy. Addy and I shared a very strong bond, and when I had to take back the litter of 4, and the gorgeous little Lois I really wanted to keep, he was there being particularly cute. Of course, we couldn't leave him all alone in the enclosure with no play mates, so he joined the household - firstly in his own room and then out amongst the 2 adults. Poppy found a great companion in Addy and they loved to tear around the house and wreak havoc.

The day approached when Addy was about to reach his goal weight (kittens need to be 1kg before desexing) and I couldn't let him go. Despite grumblings from the sidelines, I put my foot down on this one. Addy would me "my" cat - my mate. Almost a year later, and he is very much my little mate. Still the same as he was as a little tiny stray and even more loving. He likes nothing better than to cuddle up next to my head in between Dale and I (of course, this often means his bum is in Dale's face - I call that payback for when the others did it to me!) and he does purr - but only when he is completely and entirely content. Usually when we are cuddled up and sleeping. Dale calls him a "weasel" because of his curious nature and the fact he always seems to be digging in something - his other nickname is "baron von poopycat" given his strangely poor attitude to litter use. I see him through entirely rose coloured glasses and think he is wonderful anyway.