Recently my parents had to put down our family's fifteen-year-old Rottweiler, Parkway, who I have considered my little brother since I was fourteen.
A few days later, I was driving and I saw a kitten sitting by the side of the road. As I always do when I spot a stray cat or dog, I stopped, rolled down the window and started a one sided conversation with her (yep, I'm crazy--I don't deny it), but for a change, this little cat didn't dart into the woods. Instead she actually approached the car, and when I got out she let me pick her up. She was pretty skinny and had clearly been in a few cat fights in her short life. She had a Manx-tail that looked JUST like Parkway's little stub, a certain sign that I was meant to find this cat, right? Naturally I put her in the car and, accompanied by her slightly nervous singing, drove to the vet's office. I had about an hour to kill before they could see her, so we sat in my car together and bonded. This is her sitting between my feet on the floor of the car, and it's the picture with which I enticed Grace to join me at the vet's office:
The vet pronounced her healthy, though undernourished, and we decided to proceed with the requisite vaccinations. Because of her stubbular tail, we started calling her Stubs, though we knew this was just until her real name presented itself.
When Grace brought her home, she set her up in the "kitty quarantine" room and she got her first taste of kitten food. For three days we thought her belly would burst with the joy (and quantity) of such deliciousness. She also refused to use the litter box for the first couple of days; no accidents—she just held it all in. Now that she's convinced there will always be more food, and understands that the box is supposed to be used, her belly has become much more normally proportioned and she's gaining weight quickly.
She hasn't met any of the other kitties yet, but has seen them lingering in the hallway as we go in and out of her room. Hopefully when she emerges on Friday peace will reign among the felines of the house. CJ seemed a bit jealous at first...
"This is my 'You Suck' face."
...but she has been thoroughly assured that she will always be the princess of the house, with all its concomitant privileges. She seems to be feeling better about it now, and we're sure she will be an excellent big sister.
"I'm trying to be mature about this."
Anyway, after a couple of days pondering the name possibilities, we settled on Waffle. There are three reasons for her name, the first of which is that it’s just a cute word, and she’s a cute cat. (She even has a perfectly heart-shaped nose.)
Secondly, she looks like she has maple syrup drizzled over her back.
The third reason, which is more coincidental than anything else, is that we are in presidential season, when candidates are constantly accused of “Waffling” on their positions. Now we’ll never have to think too hard about what year we found this cutie...
She has been very curious about the camera.
And is quite good at posing...
"Here's my Marlene Dietrich face."
"How about a three-legged pose?"
"or should I do the paw curl?"
"Shall I stick out my tongue?"
She also likes to do a little kitty dance, which is naturally going to be the hottest new dance in all of the clubs. May we present the "Waffle Shuffle":
She is very affectionate, full of personality, and is even good about having her nails clipped—so she can stay. She also has at least one other thing in common with Parkway…she has lethal farts. Lucky for you blogs don't come with a an option for uploading smells.
"Girls don't fart.
I have no idea what you're talking about."
