Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Lucky the Accidental Kitten

So today, while waiting for my wife to pick me up (we've been carpooling), I got a text from her.  Then this little conversation happened:
Sometimes I think I know her TOO well...

When she arrived, I was introduced to Lucky, the three-day-old kitten she accidentally acquired.
How do you "accidentally" acquire a kitten?
Where there's my wife, there's a way.


Let me back up for a moment.  Many moons ago, before the birth of our eldest youngling (loloxymoron), my wife tried to turn our house into Noah's Ark.  It started with two turtles.  Then it was a bunny.  The bunny was "lonely," so she got another bunny.  A few weeks later, we had thirteen bunnies.  After finding homes for the bunnies, next it was a cat.  Then a dog.  Then another cat for the first cat and another dog for the first dog...somewhere in the middle of all this there was some fish too.  They didn't last.

As of last week, our pet menagerie had been pared down to just my daughter's fish, Pansy, and her kitten, Mia.  I also managed to negotiate my way out of ever changing a litterbox or fish tank ever again.

Then along comes Lucky.  The tale of how this tiny ball of fur (who's so freakin' young he still had an umbilical cord) ended up in our house is still a little confusing to me, but I'll try and explain.

So Lucky's mother was owned by a family a few towns away.  Apparently the day he was born, St Patrick's Day, some dog came by and decided to make a meal out of Lucky's mom and siblings.  Lucky was the only one to survive.  The family wasn't in a position to care for a newborn kitten, so they put up an online ad giving him free to a good home.

A young college girl took pity on Lucky and immediately volunteered to take him...not realizing that newborn kittens, like newborn babies, are a 24-7 job.  So she posted on a local Facebook page looking for someone else to take him in.  Another woman volunteered, and Lucky passed to his third owner.  My wife saw this posting, and when the same woman bought some of our daughter's used clothes, they struck up a conversation on how the kitten was doing:

Woman: "He's doing okay, but I'm a little concerned, because he hasn't pooped or peed for over a day."
Star Wars Mom: "Oh!  That's because you need to make them go to the bathroom when they're that little."
W: "Really?"
SWM: "Yeah, you have to get a wet cotton ball and rub their bellies until they go."
W: "Wow.  Maybe you should be taking care of this kitten.  You sound like you've had experience with this."
SWM: "Well, I have with bunnies..."

And that's how Lucky accidentally ended up with us.  His fourth home in four days.
And apparently he's here to stay.
Oy vey.  That kitten's Lucky alright.  Lucky he's so damn cute.  And lucky the kids are so cute with him.  My daughter's other kitten is already pitching a fit, and we're having to remind her to give Mia lots of love and attention so she doesn't feel rejected.

I'm not sure how long the "I have absolutely nothing to do with the continued survival of these animals" rule is going to remain in effect.  Especially because after a thorough tutorial on newborn kitten rearing from the local Humane Society, my wife discovered she's going to have to be bottle feeding this little guy every two hours.  We're even considering unpacking the co-sleeper.

She won't be completely soloing this, though.  The woman who gave Lucky to us is offering to alternate some nights so my wife can get a full night's rest.  And...dammit...I'm probably going to be pitching in too.

Update: We've renamed him Phineas/Finnegan "Finn" Shamus O'Grady, because we can't get that stupid Britney Spears song out of our heads, and we suck at agreeing on names.  The Padawan still calls him Lucky.

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