Coming home to a teenager is definately full of the unexpected, and somehow the unexpected is something I’d never expect. Hmmm…I guess that’s why it’s referred to as unexpected. After attending my son’s open house at the middle school, I returned home to be instantly involved in an unexpected conversation.
My 14 year old was on her cell phone with one of her high school classmates. She put the call on speaker phone and asked me to talk to her friend about a kitten. A what? A kitten? Now I am beginning to see that at this point, this has to be a well devised plan. I could just hear the conversation before I got home. “You talk to my mom. She’ll tell me no, but she might say yes to you!”
Of course, I wanted to know more about the kitten before making a decision, so I took the phone to logically and methodically (yeah, right!) work through this as any responsible parent would do. So I inquired about the shots, age, gender, health, type of kitten, and before I know it, her friend says, “Well, don’t you think it would help if you could SEE the kitten? My sister will drive me over!” (click) Now, that’s like a car sales man who gets you to DRIVE the car. It’s like clothes shopping and finding the outfit that FITS so well, you actually leave with it. Only this kitten was being delivered. And in two minutes. I grabbed our dog, Cheyenne (an Austrailian Cattle Dog), stuck her in the basement, and started frantically looking for our grown cat.
We have a cat already. And she’s sweet. She’s also sinister. When we see the dialated pupils, claws extended, and her back hunched up, we know to take cover. It’s a cat-tastrophie about to happen. And the dog and cat are best buds. How would a new cat fit into our family much less a five week old kitten?Well, asking all those responsible questions (ha, ha), listening to my oldest daughter’s pleas of, “Please Mommy, I earn enough money to save for her shots!”, and using my sound and unswayable judgement (yes, I know I got suckered) …we have a new female kitten.
Since she was found abandoned, my daughter named her Hobo. She’s an adorable white calico. She’s also playful and quite silly. So much that simple entertainment is right up her alley. I think she’ll fit into our household quite well. She’s playing with a dropped grape on the floor. (Not that we play with dropped grapes on the floor…really…we don’t!) The part that I’m about to figure out is how to introduce Hobo to Vixen and Cheyenne.
It’s a good thing I used my sound judgement to purchase peroxide and brand new box of bandaids while grocery shopping last weekend. This could get bloody. I can envision this now. Dog wants to play with kitten, kitten is freaked at the slobbering tongue on the big eared canine lurching towards her, and big cat being overly protective of what was her personal and sacred litter box.
I think we’re going to enjoy living with Hobo. Welcome to the family!