Friday, September 27, 2013

I AM ANDERSON! by Anderson, the Kitten

Of course Mom couldn't resist a face as cute as mine!

Piper might have mentioned me a couple of times when she was talking about Mom's foster kittens, but now I'm here to introduce myself properly.  I have a very good reason for doing this because -- guess what! -- I've been trying and trying to convince Mom to adopt me, and she finally did it!  Yep, she was the victim of something called Foster Failure, and now she owns five cats instead of four.  Later on, I will tell you how I cleverly managed to get Mom to adopt me, but first I will tell you the entire history of my life up till now.



Our family portrait.  That's me on the right.



I was born on April 22, 2013 under a bush in a park in Wyandotte County, Kansas.  Some teenagers found my mama giving birth, and they took her and all of us kittens to the Humane Society of Greater Kansas City, which is also in Wyandotte County.  Aunt Tania, who is in charge of All Things Cat at the Humane Society, agreed to take us in.  Luckily, it was still early enough in the Kitten Season, so she had space for us.







I was already adorable when I was
only two weeks old!
My eyes weren't open yet when I was at the shelter, so I don't really know what the cages looked like.  But I didn't care where I was, just as long as my mama was nearby and the milk bar was open for business.  I had four littermates, and they were all boys except for one.  Two of my brothers were gray and white, and the rest of us were more or less tabby, like our mama.

When we were two weeks old, we got to go home with our foster mom.  We slept in a nice, big cardboard box with soft blankies and a heating pad, and we stayed there for a couple of weeks until our mama decided she didn't want us in the box anymore, and she moved us to another part of the room.

I have many skills!

Meanwhile, each of us got a name of our very own, and the name I got was Anderson, which is a very fine name.  All of our names started with the letter A.  This is because Mom let her friend Rob pick out the names for us.  Uncle Rob lives far away, in a place called Los Angeles.  He can't have a kitten of his own because he is allergic to cats.  But he likes to read all about Mom's kittens, and he wanted to name a litter.  So Mom told him he could do it, and he made a list of names.  Mom sent him pictures of us, and the two of them figured out which name to put with which kitten.  So the names of my littermates were Alec, Adrian, Adair, and Abra.  Oh, and our mama got named Audra.


We lived in the Kitten Room in our foster home, and soon we started learning to walk and play and use the litter box.  Every week we had to go to the Humane Society and get more dewormer squirted in our mouths.  It tasted icky, but Mom said it would help us be healthy and not have diarrhea.  Also, sometimes we got a shot to keep us from getting distemper or some other bad disease that would kill us.

When we were six weeks old, Mom started letting us come out of the Kitten Room for a little while every day, and we got to explore the kitchen and dining room and living room.  Finally, we even got brave enough to start going upstairs.

In the meantime, some other foster kittens came to our house, and their names were Andrew, James, and John.  They were just two or three weeks older than the rest of us, and they even decided they should share our milk bar, which made the situation pretty crowded, especially since Mama was running out of milk by then.

Look deep into my beautiful gold eyes!


One day, Mom took all of us to the Humane Society, and the nurses there gave us a shot that made us sleepy.  When we woke up, we were sore, and Abra was the sorest of all.  But in a few days, we felt as good as new.  Mom took pictures of us and wrote cute little things about us, and we got to be on the internet.

But unfortunately, there were soooooo many kittens out there, wanting homes, that it took a long time for any of us to get adopted.  We all thought Abra would be the first one to be adopted because she had long, fluffy hair and she was very pretty.  But it was Andrew who got adopted first, and he was just a boring tabby kitten.  Later, Alec, Abra and Adair got adopted, but Adrian and I didn't.  Mom thought that James and John would be the last ones adopted because they were totally black.  But then James got adopted, and even our mama, Audra, got adopted.  So after that Mom still had John and Adrian, who is a tabby with some white markings, and me.


Here I am snuggling with Jason, Chief, and Chloe.

Plus we also have little Chief.  He came here with Seth and Buttercup, but they both died.  Chief was very puny, but he finally got big enough to have his surgery, and today he will get his rabies shot.  The rest of us have all been out to PetSmart several times.  And when we were out there, we sat in cages and tried to look cute so that somebody would adopt us.  Sometimes we just went for the day, and other times we had to stay out there for a whole week, which is boring because the cages are small, and there's not much to do besides sleep and eat.

Anyway, last Saturday when Mom was planning to take me and Adrian and John to PetSmart and leave us there all week, she finally decided she wanted to keep me and make me her very own cat.  So she filled out all the papers, and that's how I got adopted!

Me and Chief playing in the laundry basket.

Well, now I will tell you the secret to how I convinced Mom to adopt me.  First of all, I let Mom see what cute markings I have whenever I could.  I mean, how often do you find a kitten who is mostly all white on one side and all tabby-spotted on the other?  Also, I have very soft fur.  Another technique I used was while the other kittens were busy playing with each other, I climbed in Mom's lap and purred and showed her how much I loved her.  And when Adrian annoyed Mom by trying to climb up her pants leg, I just rubbed against her, which she liked much better.  Also, I made a point of getting to be good friends with Jason and Chloe, so Mom could see that we all get along nicely.  I would have tried to butter Charlie and Latifa up, too, but they both like to do their own thing, and they're mostly only cuddly with Mom.

Sleeping in Mom's lap is the best thing ever!

So that is the story of my brilliant life.  I turned five months old on Sunday, which is a fine age to be, at least in my opinion.  Maybe, as soon as I have some more exciting adventures, Piper will let me write in her blog again.






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