Kitten kaboodle
The cat distribution system works in mysterious ways
A couple of Sundays ago, I was sitting in church, minding the Lord’s business, when our priest stood up to make announcements. “Does anybody want a cat?” he asked.
My husband and I had been talking about getting a cat, so I raised my hand. I did it mostly to get a laugh.
I have now learned that if you raise your hand in church, you better mean it.
Turns out an orange kitten had been underneath the church all morning, meowing pitifully.
My husband and I went home after church and came back armed with an animal trap and a can of smelly cat food. And just like that, we acquired a cat.
We considered naming our new orange cat Tigger or Hobbes or Sunny, before settling on the churchy name of Amos. We assumed we had a male kitten, since 75 percent of orange cats are male.
And then we took the kitten to the vet for kitten shots and a gender reveal. Turns out we do not have a male cat.
I’d like to officially introduce you to Juno, named after the Roman mother of goddesses. The J name also pays tribute to our late cat John, who was a beloved member of the family for 17 years.
John was a big, long-haired, orange tabby cat. So is Juno. (I’m assuming she will be big, given that she has enormous paws.)
John was sweet, fierce, funny and smart (most of the time). So is Juno.
John’s nicknames were Cat-Cat and Fluffy Bunkins. Juno’s nicknames are Squishies and Derpy Tiger.
Our living room floor is now littered with jingly balls, little stuffed mice, bits of string and empty cardboard boxes. (But not the feather-on-a-stick. Juno wants nothing to do with the feather-on-a-stick.)
You might think we are spoiling the kitten but really we are just trying to protect the furniture.
And our unwitting toes.
The last time there was a kitten in the house, there were also young children in the house to keep it entertained. I’m having to adjust to a new rhythm of life with a kitten:
Put bag in closet.
Take kitten out of closet.
Put towels in cabinet.
Take kitten out of cabinet.
Put glass in dishwasher.
Take kitten out of dishwasher.
In the morning, you can trace the path of where Juno wandered during the night by following the knickknacks that have been knocked to the floor. Every few days I have to move the breakables farther up as Juno learns to jump higher.
Her single-minded goal is to chew through every charger cord in the house.
She has discovered that there is a hummingbird feeder hanging outside the living room window, so she spends a lot of time perched on the back of the couch, birdwatching.
She can parkour her way up, down and around the furniture like Tom Cruise in “Mission: Impossible,” then whirl around chasing her own tail.
If only I had energy like that.
And then she will crash for hours.
If only I could sleep like that.
Anyway, if you need me for anything, it will have to wait. I can’t get up right now because the cat is in my lap.