Ellipsis: One Paw At A Time

Friday, December 06, 2013

One Paw At A Time

"The only thing a cat worries about is what's happening right now. As we tell the kittens, you can only wash one paw at a time."

~Lloyd Alexander, Time Cat

Yesterday, Alan and I discovered a sore on our new house guest, Foster, that we hadn't noticed before. We have had him since last Saturday, and we both thought we had checked him over pretty good, but somehow a gash under his front left leg had gone unnoticed. Foster doesn't complain much, in fact, the only real sound he makes is a heavy purrrrrrr. He is an amazingly beautiful, gentle cat. Anyway, we decided that if we were going to do right by him, a trip to see Dr. Barrett would be the thing to do. So, off to see Dr. B. we went!

Dr. Barrett confirmed a lot for us. The gash could have been done by the large crows Alan had seen circling Foster, when he first found him last Saturday. He also confirmed for me that Foster probably wasn't a feral cat at all! That kitten is way too gentle and agreeable to be a kitten that has had to hunt and care for himself for most of his young life. I can't be sure, but I think someone owned Foster, but when it became too inconvenient for them, they dropped him on the freeway, or nearby, and Foster couldn't care for himself as an outside, wild one.

We will never know what happened. And to be honest, I don't think I want to know. I know there are well meaning people in this world that sometimes make bone-headed decisions. And sometimes there are people who don't understand the difference between a domesticated kitty and a feral one, assuming Foster would have all the instinct and skills to survive on his own. But I also know that there is an ASSHOLE born every minute! W.C. Fields used to say... "There is a sucker born ever minute." He was right. But he forgot to mention that there are a lot of different people born every minute, and among them are the, ASSHOLES.

It doesn't matter.

Little by little over the past week, Alan and I have both fallen completely in love with that little cat, but we were still sitting on the fence about whether keeping him would be the right thing to do. We live in a small place, that is completely filled with love already. Dylan and Hendrix are larger than life characters, and they have settled in nicely to their routines, but after a good long talk with Dr. Barrett, we decided to keep the kitten. So, we are now a slightly larger family of a Dad, Mom and three little boys. Honestly, I am not sure how it's going to work. Who will get super jealous? Who will be completely welcoming? Will Foster be able to blend in? Will Hendrix or Dylan get hurt feelings?

Am I too old to even try this? God, I feel so old. My Fibromyalgia exhausts me. All valid considerations I think. But somehow, keeping the little boy... well... just all feels so right! The only thing that didn't feel right is his name. Foster? Banana's Foster? Foster Brooks? Foster Freeze? Foster Child? Nope. That would never do! So, after some consideration, Alan and I chose a name in keeping with our love of music and musicians.

So, let me introduce to you...

Joey (Ramone)