Saturday, November 8

Coming Full Circle

[Tenth in a series]

It was just the two of us around 2000 when my final two foster kittens found their way into our lives. From the same litter, they were brother and sister, though again obviously from separate fathers, just like BabyDoll's kittens had been.

Sherman and Molly were semi-feral, which meant they needed time apart from BabyDoll most of the time in a cage. And needed some serious taming. For the most part, they tamed well, though Molly needed much more work. She was more of a loner; and BabyDoll didn't like her much if at all.

Sherman, however, was always trying to cuddle with BabyDoll, but she wanted nothing to do with it, at least at first. In a kitty bed with barely enough room for her, Sherman would try to fit in there as well. It was a tight fit.

BabyDoll was never a large cat. That was Sherman's job. She had to have been the runt of her litter. In fact, she was so little that at a vet visit, another customer at the vet's office remarked "What an adorable kitten!"

"She's eight" was my reply.



And Molly and Sherman? In the photo above, they're both about three months old.

And they still have me.

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