Callie Cat

Yesterday I took the boys on a bike ride. We stopped at a stop sign about 2 blocks from our house, and from across the street comes this little black kitten...trotting over to us, meowing all the while. She was quite obviously a stray but was the friendliest little kitten I'd ever seen. She ran right over to the boys (who immediately hopped off their bikes to pet her) and rubbed up against them, purring away...even letting them pick her up and hold her. She was really sweet.

Then it began. The begging, the pleading, the convincing..."Let's take her to OUR home" "She needs a family" etc. etc. I can't complain too loudly because I'm a sucker for animals myself, and even as I told them "no, no, we should leave her here where we found her" I knew in my heart that we'd be taking her home, if only for a bowl of food and some love'n. I told the boys that if she would hold still and let me hold her that we could take her home. Well, that fluffy little kitty sat in my arms for the whole walk home, purring away.
As we walked up our drive, I called ahead to AJ, "Don't open the front door AJ!" knowing full well that Cooper would come bounding out and scare the poor baby away. So what does AJ do?? Completely ignores me and opens the front door. Times like that I feel that I've done SUCH a good job raising my boys to obey.
Well...you can imagine: Cooper comes out. Kitty hisses and digs her claws into my arm (thank goodness I was wearing a sweatshirt). I tried to turn my back and shield her from the dog whilst yelling, "NO COOPER!" but this cat apparently didn't have much faith in my protective abilities because she thought she might be safer on high ground. Like, the top of my head.
So there I am, spinning in the front yard, away from Cooper, hunched over, hissing cat on my head, wondering what kind of kitty disease I'm getting and if she'll actually puncture the flesh of my skull. With rabies in mind, I think it's probably best to fling the cat off my head so I do so, and she scampers away, hissing, and runs straight up a tree.

AJ looks horrified.
"I told you NOT to open the door!" I scolded.
He looks worried. And heartbroken.
"My baby kitty is gone" he says, bottom lip quivering.
I sigh. And take the high road.
"That's why you need to obey me." Which is toddler-speak for "I told you so"

We get in the house, settle Cooper. The boys hit the toilet, so I slip back outside to see if I can find poor traumatized baby cat or if she's gone forever. No sooner do I step into the front yard and I hear a little "meow" and see some rustling in the pine tree out front. She hops down from the tree and runs over to me. So I set her on the front stoop and go inside and the boys come rejoicing (they had been watching out the window...and mercifully, NOT opening the door).
"You found her! You found the kitty baby!"

The boys hurriedly poured some of Nala's cat food into a bowl and AJ got her some milk (which I KNOW is not good for cats, but how do you tell a 3 year old that?) She narfed up that whole bowl of food AND the milk, and them some water too. Purring contentedly, rubbing up against the boys, she really IS a sweet cat. Owen named her Callie Cat. AJ wanted to name her Spongebob Poopy Pants (no, not kidding - he's really been into the doofy potty talk lately.) but Owen insisted on Callie Cat, thank goodness.

Now, before my mother and my mother in law start shaking their heads in disbelief that the Nowack clan has yet another pet, let me say that we did NOT keep her.
After she finished up her food, and the boys played with her a bit more, we put her in the car (where she curled up in the back with the boys and slept, and drove her to the Humane Society. I'm hoping that someone will pick her up for a Christmas present. She really is SUCH a nice cat. So if you're in the Albany area, and looking for a kitty to love...check out the Humane Society on Oakridge. CallieCat is there waiting...."for a fami-wy of her own" as AJ says.