There was a time, 18 months ago, when adopting another baby animal was something Mark and I made a pact about. About NOT doing it.
We had our beloved Wrigley and he was constantly a step ahead of us, exhausting us... and ultimately fulfilling us. He was enough. He was MORE than enough.
Then about 2-3 months ago, Wrigley mellowed. Stopped eating his toys, learned to play with claws retracted and even gave up stealing our food. I was able to teach him tricks using cat treats! So it came as only a tiny surprise to Mark, the day I crept into his office and coyly suggested it might be time to reward Wrigley by getting him a companion.
As it happened, some friends had kittens looking for new homes!
Eight weeks prior, they found some day old kittens, cold and hungry, abandoned in a pile of tires in their yard. After valiant efforts to warm, feed and return the babies to their feral (but friendly) momma, they had to admit the kittens were really meant to be hand-raised by their daughter, Ava....inside the house. Momma cat wanted nothing more to do with them. She opted for a "closed adoption".
Day in and day out, Ava nurtured the babies. Turning out 4 healthy, blue eyed, bundles of well socialized, confident and energetic fluff.
On Sunday June 28th, Mark and I met Rusty (then named Opie) and brought him home. It took all of an hour to fall in love with him. Wrigley's reaction? Ah. Yes, let's call it "less enthusiastic". He has alternated between shunning us, growling, hissing and refusing to purr. Through closed doors and the bars of the cat carrier, Wrigley does his best Darth Vader impression and tries to freak out Rusty.
Rusty was the Dalai Lama in a prior life, so it's not working. He responds with a nod, a lean and a soft look into Wrigleys eyes. There is no growling or hissing or spitting. Rusty is a kitten of few words, but I KNOW he is saying "I love you Wrigley and I can't wait for us to spend time together. It's going to be amazing. You'll see. I will grow on you (like rust)."
We know it's going to be a process. Today is day 4 of having a younger brother and Wrigley is 90% back to the loving, smooching, purring giant baby that I love with all my heart. This is progress, to be sure. Wrigley is a very smart cat. He is a skilled communicator and was deeply unhappy with the arrival of Rusty. However... I'm fairly sure his unhappiness was mostly fear. Fear of change and of new things. Wrigley has a history of suffering from what olde timey docs might have called "hysteria". His super emotional reactions have several times, resulted in physiological conditions and vet visits in the past. He always pulls through.
Meanwhile, Rusty is settling in just fine. He loves life, has boatloads of energy, sleeps well and is ever so cuddly.
This is the part you've all been scrolling down for: The Rusty Gallery
We had our beloved Wrigley and he was constantly a step ahead of us, exhausting us... and ultimately fulfilling us. He was enough. He was MORE than enough.
Then about 2-3 months ago, Wrigley mellowed. Stopped eating his toys, learned to play with claws retracted and even gave up stealing our food. I was able to teach him tricks using cat treats! So it came as only a tiny surprise to Mark, the day I crept into his office and coyly suggested it might be time to reward Wrigley by getting him a companion.
As it happened, some friends had kittens looking for new homes!
Eight weeks prior, they found some day old kittens, cold and hungry, abandoned in a pile of tires in their yard. After valiant efforts to warm, feed and return the babies to their feral (but friendly) momma, they had to admit the kittens were really meant to be hand-raised by their daughter, Ava....inside the house. Momma cat wanted nothing more to do with them. She opted for a "closed adoption".
Day in and day out, Ava nurtured the babies. Turning out 4 healthy, blue eyed, bundles of well socialized, confident and energetic fluff.
On Sunday June 28th, Mark and I met Rusty (then named Opie) and brought him home. It took all of an hour to fall in love with him. Wrigley's reaction? Ah. Yes, let's call it "less enthusiastic". He has alternated between shunning us, growling, hissing and refusing to purr. Through closed doors and the bars of the cat carrier, Wrigley does his best Darth Vader impression and tries to freak out Rusty.
Rusty was the Dalai Lama in a prior life, so it's not working. He responds with a nod, a lean and a soft look into Wrigleys eyes. There is no growling or hissing or spitting. Rusty is a kitten of few words, but I KNOW he is saying "I love you Wrigley and I can't wait for us to spend time together. It's going to be amazing. You'll see. I will grow on you (like rust)."
We know it's going to be a process. Today is day 4 of having a younger brother and Wrigley is 90% back to the loving, smooching, purring giant baby that I love with all my heart. This is progress, to be sure. Wrigley is a very smart cat. He is a skilled communicator and was deeply unhappy with the arrival of Rusty. However... I'm fairly sure his unhappiness was mostly fear. Fear of change and of new things. Wrigley has a history of suffering from what olde timey docs might have called "hysteria". His super emotional reactions have several times, resulted in physiological conditions and vet visits in the past. He always pulls through.
Meanwhile, Rusty is settling in just fine. He loves life, has boatloads of energy, sleeps well and is ever so cuddly.
This is the part you've all been scrolling down for: The Rusty Gallery
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