I want to thank all of you out there, many of whom de-lurked to offer me support, for the outpouring of kindness and love showed me when I wrote about our cat's passing. I was honestly terrified to share something so personal, but you all helped me with your encouragement and kind sentiments. I can never thank you enough.
Meet our new kitty. Yes she’s cute and fluffy and blah, blah, blah, but she is on some sort of kitty cat-nip laced speed of the likes I’ve never seen before.
She melts our heart with her squeaky meow, she makes us smile with her soft kisses and gentle head nudges. Then, just when you think everything’s going great, BAM! she pounces on your stray hand or your exposed neck and head area leaving you with bloody stumps or a severed mole. I’m just sayin’.
Witness the beating Jeremy’s hands took at the claws of our new furry terror.
Right about now, many of you may be thinking one of two things… 1) Isn’t it a little too soon to get another cat after your other cat just passed away? or 2) Has Steenky Bee suddenly turned into one of those annoying personal blogs about cats?
The answer to those questions, my friends, are: Yes it is too soon and no…well, maybe. I might write about our cats again in the future. Sorry.
The decision for us to get another kitty came at a weak moment when I was craving the warmth of something furry on my lap. Taz, or T-Bizzle, our 13-year old cat pictured later, is only a cuddler on his terms, and by his terms, of course, I mean on my head while I’m sleeping. Meesha was my constant side-kick that followed me from room to room and would respond to me as I bounced post topics off her for this blog. She was responsible for Dance Face post, Brush With The Law post and most recently, my Airplane Terror Ride post that was published posthumously.
Last week, as I tried to get back into the swing of writing again, I queried Taz as to what appropriate blog material would be for Steenky Bee. The closest thing to input I received from him was him licking himself and walking away after I asked him if I should post about the recent fetish I’ve developed for Bear Grylls.
When Taz wasn’t licking himself or sleeping under our bed, he was giving us what I believed was his sad face. Everybody, behold Taz’s “I am sad” face.
Make no mistake people, the size of his nose is not an optical illusion. It really is THAT big.
Surely Bizzle was missing Meesha, his cat-mate, his companion for so long. I could not allow him to go on lonely with no one to lick but himself. I also could not trust his judgment when it came to deciding content for my web site. So at the end of last week, Jeremy and I found ourselves at a small farm house picking up a kitten who we named Mabel.
Once we brought her home, I strategically placed a hand-written letter for the kids that was “penned” by Meesha herself. In this letter, she declared her love for Henry and Reese and introduced them to Mabel, the newest addition to our family, hand-picked of course, by her all the way from up in kitty heaven.
Needless to say, Henry and Reese were thrilled. The next few days of their lives were filled with their gleeful squeals when they found Mabel tucked away in a warm spot between the covers or their uncontrollable laughter as they watched Mabel chase her own tail.
I was sure Taz would be thrilled as well. He was not. Not immediately anyway. Here was his, “I’m not thrilled. Not now, anyway. I’m off to pee in Jeremy’s favorite shoes to demonstrate exactly how NOT thrilled I am.”
Oddly enough, Bizzle’s “I am not thrilled” face is the exact same as his “I am sad” face. Who knew?
I’m happy to report, after repeated transfer of scents by petting both Taz and Mabel excessively and encouraging positive behavior toward each other by speaking in soft, reassuring tones as they approached one another, the two of them are getting along famously. With patience, a sincere heart and a small melt down where you physically toss both animals into the guest bathroom for them to duke it out, acclimating cats to one another can be easy.