About a month ago, my sister came home one evening calling out, "hope you don't mind, but we have a new roommate" I looked up from putting dishes in the dishwasher, turned and find her holding a blanket with a tiny, furry half Siamese kitten. When I think if little cuties like that, I think of an adorable fluff ball with too big eyes and too much curiosity for comfort. Having a dog on weekends is plenty in my book! However, the story of this little sweetheart was sad since she was found huddled, without mother, starving. My sister took a triple dose of compassion for all of us, whisked up the pitiful squaller and fed it with a syringe. Apparently the mother didn't any milk, so it left.
It looked pathetic. I hate cats in the house. To me, a kitten isn't even an exception. I hate the way they smell, the way they can stalk you and you can't hear them, how the jump up on stuff, etc etc. I do NOT like cats in the house.
But.
And it's a big but.... this is what the little blighter did after the bundle was handed over to me. Her claws came out, her pathetic growl came in earnest and she started in on filling that tiny belly.
After a few sucks, she got tired and did this:
Okay. I am not proof against some simple, grateful, cuddles of appreciation. Cuddled right into me. My hate of cats in the house ... yeah.... about that.....
After getting some milk in that belly every 30 minutes, her pathetic cries turned to inquisitive kitten meows. And the purring started immediately. Deep, rumbly, sweet, contented, purrs that you can't help but smile. Which was so cute. And became very disrupting! She cried if she wasn't held. And purred like a steam engine if snuggled in my lap while I did homework.
Long and short of it, I do not have time to care for this sweetheart and being only 4 weeks old, she requires constant attention. So after the weekend, I brought her to work Monday morning. It took two minutes for her to be adopted and she now enjoys being a princess named Torra Bella. or Beautiful Tiger.