Last Friday, the kids and I came home with stars shining in our eyes, kitten gear in one hand, and 3 scraggly kittens in other.

We were the proud new temporary owners of three foster kittens.

These little rescues really had no interest in being rescued, at all. In the old country, they constantly fought for their lives, never bathed, and starved for the sheer pleasure of it. Now? Now their new life is utter trash. Fresh water and food are always available. Loving hands stroke their furs at all hours of the day. They take baths in water so warm it makes them sleepy.

Domestication is disgusting.

Taylor and I fostered a stray litter 9 years ago. And then we never did it again. Obviously, this makes us old hands at fostering feral animals. However, I don’t remember it being this tiring. The kittens set up shop in our bedroom. We tried sleeping with them. It didn’t work out. I don’t know if you know this, but cats are nocturnal and they can play and meow alllll night. We don’t mind though. I actually prefer sleeping in a loveseat with the armrest pushing against my scoliosis.

And then there’s the poop.

Poop is gross. I’d rather not blog about it. But you must understand. Kitten poop is the worst poop of all poops. Kitten poop is so reek that it permanently stains the walls. You’re better off snorting formaldehyde than taking a whiff of kitty poop.

One night, we kicked out the window just to breathe. When the smell still didn’t dissipate, Taylor called it quits and moved into the living room. I had no choice but to follow him. Not because of the wasteland my bedroom had become. But obviously because I’ll get murdered by a roaming serial killer if I sleep alone. (Don’t worry. The kittens were safe on their own. Serial killers only hurt people!)

Let’s meet the stars of the show!

The calico, AKA the pretty one, AKA the only cat you came here to read about, AKA Ducky, is “spicy”. Spicy as in she hisses and spits and yowls if I do something she doesn’t like. If Ducky wrote a list of unforgiveable actions, “smiling” or “offering treats” would make the top. There isn’t an actual list though, since “making lists” is 3rd on the unforgivables list.

Ducky actually really likes baths and hair brushing. She loafed in the warm water, just a kitten enjoying a little spa reverie. By way of thanks for the bath, she chose to not to shred my ribcage to pieces when I cuddled her in my hoodie.

Speaking of hoodie cuddles, all the kittens have responded well to this form of skin to skin contact (except, of course, with shirts on for both of us because that would be weird otherwise). I like to think it helps them hear my heart beating in a motherly fashion. Realistically, though, they’re just overwhelmed with the disgusting human smell that they just give up fighting.

Here’s Cookies in his first first cuddle sesh with foster mom:

When he’s not on the brink of going postal at me, he’s usually hoarding food, to the point of starving his sibs. Poor guy has got quite the belly from the overeating. But he’s making up for it by running zoomies in my bedroom.

And Littlefoot / Toothless / Frank / Bruce Wayne is the most timid of them all.

His insecurity is directly linked to our inability to choose a solid name. Out in the wild, he had no name. He just vibed in existence. Now he is Many Names by Many People who Many Pet him with their Many Hands. None of which has he has given consent to, by the way. Nasty humans trying to name him and feed him and play with him in this gilded cage!

Humans are the worst.

I admit that the kitties haven’t progressed as much as I expected. Which is astonishing. 27 hours per day are dedicated to playtime, singing time, and plenty of snacks & naps. Idk where the kitties are during these activities but you’d think they’d have warmed up to me by now!

But we’ll try again tomorrow. On the agenda we have nail clippings and bonding with the resident feline. Both of which are favorite pastimes of all cats alike! Wish me luck!! xx

PS will one of you send me benadryl I forgot I’m allergic to cats