The Kitties

Arthur

Enjoying the good life.

Arthur is my lucky boy. He was part of a litter of five. He was the "normal" one. While all his brothers and little sister were born with extra toes, poor little Arthur was just ordinary. But I adored them all. I hadn't been around kittens in many years. I spent hours and hours playing with them and cuddling them.

Tragically, due to an unforeseeable accident, I lost all of those kittens except for Arthur. He was the only survivor. That's why I say he's my lucky boy. I was devastated after losing them, and it was especially hard to see Arthur so lonely. He spent many hours the remainder of that summer sleeping on my lap while I was writing or working on sewing projects (and totally getting in the way). He was always the shy one, but losing his siblings made him bond with us like he probably never would have otherwise.

A couple days old.

Arthur was born in early spring, so all he knew for his first several months was warm weather. When winter rolled around and snow fell, he was NOT happy. Poor baby was always moping around and looking miserable. I don't know how many times he dashed into the house when we opened the door. He was desperate to be a house kitty. He finally got his wish when I moved into my own place.

Arthur is named after King Arthur. It seemed appropriate since he had a (semi-wild) older brother that I named Merlin.

Timothy

Aren't I cute, Mom?

Timothy is Arthur's younger brother, one of another litter of five. The funny thing is, Timothy was my least favorite of the litter. It took a while for him to "grow into" the markings on his face. Or maybe it was just that he was similar to Riley, one of the wonderful kitties I had lost in the accident, and it was just too soon for me. I was scared to bond like that with another kitten when survival for a farm cat, especially a kitten, is uncertain at best.

A couple days old.

So how did that change? When Timothy and his siblings were two months old, I went out to check on them. I noticed Timothy looked wet and figured he'd jumped in their water dish or something. Upon closer inspection, I realized his whole front end was soaked in motor oil. Apparently, he'd somehow slipped into a pan of it in the garage. I took him right to the house to try to get him cleaned up. Several wads of paper towels, rinses in the sink, a bunch of Dawn dish soap, and a couple hours spent wrapped in warm towels to dry, and he was more or less clean. Poor baby was quite traumatized

Look at that paw!

after that, however, I don't think he forgot me doing that. He and his siblings were wilder than the first litter since I didn't spend quite as much time with them. They would always dash away whenever we would try to catch them, but ever since that day, Timothy was my buddy.

What makes Timothy special is that he has an extra toe on all four paws. He's a what you could wall a "Hemingway cat." He's a very appropriate cat for me to have as an author. :)

Lucy

I'm adorable and I know it.

My sweet little Lucy came to me as a result of another tragedy. Their mama Lacy died suddenly a week after having Lucy and her siblings. I was devastated because Lacy was such a wonderful, loving kitty. My neighbor ended up taking the four kittens to try to bottle raise. We didn't know if they would make it, being so young (their eyes weren't even open yet at the time). But all four thrived!

A couple days old.

After getting permission from my landlady for one more kitty, I brought Lucy home at eleven weeks old. She is the most darling, spunky little thing. She's also the most affectionate kitty I've ever had. She likes to snuggle as close to my face as she can and gives me lots of kisses during the night. :D Like Timothy, she has extra toes, but only on her back paws.

I loved all my precious fur babies and will always miss them.