Little Cat

Of the three abandoned kittens I brought into the house three weeks ago, one has survived and even thrived.  He has been dubbed "Little Cat", which was my attempt at not naming him because he cannot stay.  He still needs a new home, due to DS2's allergies, but my idea of not naming him kind of backfired.  Because now all of us call him Little Cat, and he recognizes it as himself and will come running when you call "Little Cat, where are you?"

While I am running into a wall with trying to find him a home other than here without resorting to listing him on Craigslist, I am thankful that he has grown and thrived.  Having him indoors and under my care has been an amazing experience.  To see him go from pretty helpless, not even knowing how to feed himself, wash himself, or even poop or pee on his own, to a nearly seven week old cat that is litter trained, eats anything he now finds on the floor in addition to his kitten food, climbs, stalks, pounces, wrestles, and seems to have an instinct for hunting that leads me to hope he will make someone a good mouser, well that has been incredible.

Unfortunately, it makes it harder, as the days go by, to not just say "Well, Little Cat, you can stay here, in my house, with me."  In fact, DH, the man who claims he doesn't like cats, has recently been seen playing with Little Cat, and letting Little Cat sit on his shoulder.

It's mighty hard to resist a face like this looking up at you after climbing all the way up the couch to sit on your lap:

It's also hard to resist a cuddly little bugger who looks adorable sleeping in the crook of your arm like this (the noise of the camera woke him up):

I am thankful to have Little Cat in my life, even though it will (hopefully) be a temporary thing.