This is Boris, playing with his new mousie. He is fond of batting it around, and looks up at us for approval and cuteness ratings (we usually give him a ten). By Saturday (yesterday) he had thoroughly insinuated himself into the household. He sneaks up to the other cats and stealth cuddles. He follows us around until we pick him up, and squeaks if we don't comply. Even Czarina Katya has stopped reflexively hissing at him.

He is enjoying the big porch windows, and his new kibble (Science diet kitten), he wouldn't eat the food that came with him from the shelter. :) His favorite treat so far is mighty dog, which TRUST me, we are not giving him, but he sneaks into Sophie's food dish every chance he gets. I don't know what sort of crack they put in mighty dog, but all the kittehs LOVE it.

He hasn't figured out where to sleep yet. The last couple of nights he tried my pillow. Lucky me, he appears to be a hair nesting kitten. He also frequently licks my cheek or ear and has damn stinky cat breath.

We needed a new watering system, so today's 50.00 trip to Pet Smart included a new water-bottle/ dish system, and a handsome collar with bell and tag. I figure this at least gives the other cats a running start. Tonight's big kitten fun includes an introduction to the ferret.

What happened next? Who's Boris? The suspense is killing you, right? All of the Leaf family cats have Russian names. (Dogs, too). Jack Sprat wasn't going to work. My husband tried out several names in rapid succession, but as I had said at the shelter "He is a Boris". Well, he will be when he grows into his paws.

It's true. Boris is the name that stuck.

Boris came home June 16th, 2010. He is almost 6 months old. He is on Lycozene (sp?) for the sneezing, and is an orange marmelade tabby. He has ginormous paws. Be afraid.

The other residents of our commune, 3 cats and one dog, were singularly unimpressed. We kept Boris out on the porch for a while. Introducing new pets to a current household is always tricky. We have a lot of experience, and it just takes time. Our cats are very social and love people and each other (Sophie the dog, not so much).

I should say that Sophie is a German Spitz. She weighs 11 pounds. She was raised by the cats, and loves them all. Her "Pack" doesn't always agree with her doggest points of view. Sophie has put the cats into a basic pack order. When they commit a crime, such as a counter incursion, she runs out to us, barking frantically to alert us to the misdemeanor in progress. She was the first to reach out to the newcomer, and decided he was OK. Boris, not so sure continued to bounce around off ground level.

A word about bringing home a shelter cat who has been confined for a while? So amazing. He couldn't quite jump gracefully as he was unused to that motion. Our porch has big huge windows with wide sills for cat-napping. Most windows face the "cat TV" (our bird feeder). All of our cats live indoors exclusively. Watching Boris explore, Jump, play, look out the windows was so beautiful. He would pause briefly to run back to one of us, cuddle, purr and move on. We introduced the other inmates one at a time, Sophie first, then Leo.

An introduction to Leo: He is so not smart, we refer to him as "pre-tarded". His favorite activity? Cuddling, or chasing his "sparklies", the rainbows cast around the room by crystals hanging from the window. He sniffed, hissed a bit, sighed, and curled up on Dad's lap. Two down.

Katya. Ah, Katya. She, the black sleek beauty. She the baby, formerly the center of attention. Katya is the smartest cat we have ever had. She is two, and came from the Humane society. She does not like anyone to cut down on her attention, and she LOVES us. Her family, her dog. She cuddles, cries for attention, and seeks us out. She mimics motions, like a head cock to the side. She figures things out, you can see her thinking...

She was not PLEASED. But 2 days later, Boris and Katya are co-existing, in this picture, they are playing. I think Katya will be happy to have a playmate she can boss around...

The Boris Briefings...Boris comes home

Approximately three weeks ago, I was working the Monday evening shift at Feline Rescue in St. Paul. Shift leader extraordinaire Donna asked if I could clean the med room (this is where we quarantine sick kitties until they can join the general shelter population).

As I was cleaning, I was distracted by the wailing and shrieking coming from one of the upper cages. Said inmate, name of "Jack Sprat" apparently wanted to get my attention. Our procedures require that every cage you move to, or cat you handle in meds requires that you CLEAN YOUR HANDS.

After cleaning my hands, I visited this little bit of misery. He immediately started to purr, wrapped himself around my neck and was generally adorable. Little Bastard! I already have three cats, a dog, a ferret and a bearded dragon!

I put him back, and washed my hands. He cried the whole time I was cleaning, and when I was finished (washed my hands) I took him out again. Keep in mind he was meowring at me the ENTIRE TIME. He settled in for a cuddle and a purr.

I went home, and told my family about this kitteh named Jack. My husband said "We don't need another cat, we don't like orange cats, and kittens are a pain". OK, all true, I had to agree.

Fast forward 2 weeks. I had to miss a week at the shelter. It is now Monday, the 14th. As I am walking past one of the upper kennel stacks I hear a familiar "Meowrer!" Shrieking bloody murder to get my attention; Jack Spratt. I was sure he would have been adopted immediately. I opened the cage (since he was in general population, no need to wash hands). He leaped into my arms, purring, and nibbling, and otherwise frantically trying to get me to love him.

No. You see, I already have three cats. I don't like kittens. I am not looking for a cat. I have never had a orange cat, I like black cats. No.

I called my husband (on cell and home phone) and left the following messages " Um, Hi. I am at the shelter with this cat...Um, I think he is meant to be ours. Umm, yeah, I'll call you later".

My husband heard "yeah, so I fell in love with another cat, and I am bringing him home whether you like it or not".

Oh, no. We ask permission in OUR house. I am quite sure I asked first. Maybe. So I went to Dawn (adoption woman extraordinaire) to put a hold on him "Until my family could come and meet him". YES, I did say that!!! it's in writing, somewhere.

Dawn gave me devastating news, Jack had another family in line first. NOOOOOOOOOOO. But really? A family, with kids to love and take care of him. We wish that for all our kittehs. I tried to believe it. All night, I walked past him and he yodeled to get my attention. I cleaned like a maniac so I could spend some time with him to say goodbye. He curled in my lap and purred.

I forgot to mention one thing, and this is important; Jack is a little sick. He is sneezing and coughing quite a bit. No infection, but he may have a compromised immune system, and some environmental sensitivities. Our Leo, aged 8 is a special needs cat (he is also dumb as a ten-pound box of rocks, but that is a different story) with severe respiratory issues. No big, we have a great vet, and are used to cat snot. As much as you can be.

When I left, Dawn said she had to contact the other family. I went home to face mine. NO there wasn't a cat in my bag, NO, I didn't adopt anyone (yet), NO we probably wouldn't get him, he was going to a family, wasn't that (sniff) great?

I went on. I went to school, to work, home. ate, slept. Played with the other pets. while I was out Tuesday evening, we got a call. "Feline Rescue" said the caller ID. OMG. OMGOMGOMG.

I couldn't remember how to retrieve voicemail for our vonage account. NOOOOOOOOOOO!

I called my husband at band practice and left frantic messages. Finally I bowed to the unknown, and tried to sleep. When I woke up, I immediately made my husband show me how to get voice mail and heard "The other family was here last night, but they are uncomfortable with the sneezing." "If you want him, contact me.". OMG! OMGOMGOMG!!!

So Dawn got three messages in rapid succession in various states of chaotic expression "Um this is Kelley? Um, yeah we want him. I mean my family has to meet him. I mean that's really a formality, we want him, Um call me". Such elegance and clarity.

Dawn called me back and we arranged to meet at the shelter that evening. I don't remember what I did all day. Food was consumed, class was taken, work was done. I went to the shelter.

When I got there I took him out of the cage, and held him while he purred. He recognized me, and settled in for a cuddle, and an occasional finger nip. My husband showed up on his motorcycle, with the cat carrier bungied to the back (I had the car, but no carrier). He took one look at this orange sneezing ball of naughty, and sighed. "Yeah, ok." Big softy.

After I apologized for falling in love with a cat, we signed the papers, packed him up and took him home. Jack Sprat was part of the family.