We have two new residents at our house. I’m not sure “resident” is the best word; surely, the term used should indicate the master/servant relationship that we have entered into.

In March, we had to have our elderly tortie kitty put down. After a long and very happy life, sweet Tesorita developed a couple of very problematic conditions, and we had to cope with dealing with her long-distance. Our house sitter was extraordinarily supportive and patient, but we finally had to make the call that This Was It. And we mourned, deeply. But on the day we picked up her corpse at the vet’s, we learned that a former playmate of my son’s had died of a heroin overdose at age twenty-one. An event like that puts the death of an elderly, ailing much-loved kitty in perspective. The latter is sad; the former is truly tragic.

Soon, I was thinking of a new feline in the house. I thought about getting a young adult, a year or so, as there seem to be plenty of those who need homes. But my husband was adamant: he wanted kittens, so he could raise them properly, and he wanted two. I thought it was an utterly fabulous idea, and set out on my search.

The kittens were born in Fall Creek, Oregon, to a young cat that had been abandoned in the country, and found shelter living under a cabin. A young woman, the daughter of a friend’s co-worker, adopted that cat and another also living under the house. The kittens, four girls, were born April 11. I put in a request for twins, and received photos of two adorable tabbies.


The kittens came to live with us in mid-June, and we were instantly and totally smitten. My son was tasked with naming them, and, showing his lack of religious training, chose two devilish names, and they received the nicknames Lucy and Belle. During the first trip to the vet’s, we found out that Belle needed a new name, and he became Bubba. They are now almost 4 1/2 months old, very active, very affectionate, very, very adorable. Last night Bubba was visiting my husband in bed, and climbed under the covers and attacked certain body parts. Bubba was banished back to the laundry room.


Bubba is bigger than Lucy, chunky and good-natured, with a wonderful tennis-ball sized tummy. Lucy is long and very thin, with a triangular, bony, face. She has a big appetite and lots of energy, but remains skinny. She is extremely affectionate, and loves to sleep on a pillow next to my laptop. I think she likes to listen to Il Divo, too.

Lucy in the wild

On the second trip to the vet’s, the technician announced that they were part Norwegian Forest Cat, pointing out the fans of fur covering their ears and their big feet. We found that enchanting, too, and point out any obvious trait to support the theory of the exotic parentage–Bubba likes heights, his tail is getting long and elegant; Lucy has a lovely long coat of outer hairs.

Bubba's stuck!

So look at the photos here, and some more linked to my photobucket site from here. Don’t you agree? Aren’t they utterly enchanting? Friends often stop by to hold and cuddle them. They agree: just perfect.


One Response

  1. Those kittens are THE cutest!!!! Lucky!

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