Don’t kitties all love company?
Hi, I'm Hobo
Anyone who spends any time around me knows I have cats. Well, at the moment I have a cat. Last October I went from a two adult cat household to a two adult cat and one barely two month old kitten household, courtesy of some twit who apparently thought it was smart to just drop a kitten off to fend for itself.
Yes, she was named for the way she arrived.
Hobo has been an interesting addition to my family. Fawnya and Dawn both just accepted her and even seemed to like her. She quickly showed herself to be a loving little thing with a big streak of mischief. One of her favourite moves is leaping onto my shoulder when I’m in the kitchen. She has expanded that to just about any where in the house.
No windowsill for me, I watch from above
Dawn seemed to accept her a lot more willingly than she did when Fawnya arrived in the household. That was full on hissing and fur on end display when I opened the box to reveal his then six week old self.
They reached a detente over the years. Sometimes I was reminded of a couple who’d been together for years. They didn’t always like each other but they did at least respect each other. It was pretty simple, Dawn was boss and Fawnya acquiesced like any good partner should.
Mom! She’s picking on me!
Hobo just bounced into their lives like she’d been invited. She was respectful of Dawn but would at times play with her and Dawn seemed to enjoy it.
It was Fawnya who really embraced her arrival. Hobo could climb around on him, chase him through the house and even get his super size self chasing her back. He’d curl up to sleep beside me and Hobo would climb over him and curl up against him to sleep with him.
Cuddle time with Fawnya
Lost Dawn in March and Fawnya in July. Hobo seemed to take Dawn’s loss in stride, her buddy Fawnya was still here to play with. Fawnya’s passing left her a bit confused for a while. She explored the house looking for him, pausing at his favourite places like she was waiting for him to show up.
When that didn’t help, she just started spending more time curled up on me.
Over the weeks since Fawnya died in early July she’s made it rather clear to me, she doesn’t like being left here alone. My first clue should have been her frantic behaviour when I’m getting dressed and then head for the door. She leaps on furniture as I pass and tries to grab hold of me. Lately that has been expanded to her meeting me at the door with her paws up trying to embrace me.
I wonder if mom is watching
As it happens, a friend of mine’s wife has a pet boarding service. They have recently had some kittens they needed to home. I was really, really tempted when he put the pic of a calico up. Hobo hadn’t quite got the message across to me yet.
She has now.
When my friend and I met for cocktails earlier this month he mentioned the tortoise shell kitten is still there. She’s about four months old. I told him to see if he could home her in September. If not, we’d introduce the two at the end of the month. He admitted to me the other day, he’s not actually tried.
Hey Mom! What you doing?
So Hobo, you need to send big purrs to Bill, you have a companion coming.
I’m thinking Tramp for a name. Somehow Hobo and the Tramp just has a quirky ring to it.
What do you think?
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Until Next Time — Just Steem on
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