Answer: THREE kittens.
We’ve been talking about getting some kittens for a while now. Our population of live-outside-a-tank pets has been dwindling and our kids are obsessed with cats, so we’ve been sort of waiting for the right time to go cat shopping.
We decided that Saturday was the day. The Washington Animal Rescue League was having an adoption event and they had kittens available, so we headed over there first thing.
We were looking for three kittens, so I made sure to tell the munchkins that we were probably coming home without cats because I was worried that we wouldn’t find the right cats or enough of them or the shelter staff would sniff out how…excitable we are and then all three of my kids would start sobbing in the shelter parking lot right there because of dashed expectations. Regardless, we were super hoping that we’d be coming home with some youngish cats.
Fortunately, we found three kittens that were the right kittens for us.
So, we were there, at the shelter, having promised our children their kittens, and the adoption counselor says that they normally only adopt out two cats at a time and is there a reason we need three? Then I had a minor stroke and managed to point at my kids and say, “Because there are three of them,” because oh my God, CAN YOU IMAGINE IF ONLY TWO OF THEM GOT CATS?
It would be like, “Sorry, Quinn, I know every other word out of your mouth for the past year has been meow, but we’ve decided, ‘NO CAT FOR YOU!'”
Like the Cat Nazi.
Fortunately, we were allowed our three kittens. We could only bring the two black ones home that day because the black and white one still has to be spayed. She should be coming home Tuesday.
I’ve been having nightmares that there is going to be some sort of fuck up and somehow we are going to end up without that cat. If that happens, I’m leaving for Mexico. I can’t possibly face Quinn after school on Tuesday unless I’m holding a small black and white kitten. Cross your fingers for us.
Awesomely, our cats were on sale. In terms of enjoyment time as it relates to money spent, these cats are probably the best deal I will ever get in my life. They were six dollars for one, two for ten. I am not kidding. My gerbils practically cost more than that.
I am well aware that most of these details are completely irrelevant to you because what you really want are photographs of kittens. Because, well, KITTENS.
Here I have to pause, bow my head apologetically, and tell you that black kittens are crazy hard to take pictures of, but I was vigilant and I finally got this one:
I *could* show you numerous videos of the kittens, but they are all extremely long and a little shaky due to the multitasking of the cameraman.
Allow me to embiggen:
It seems unfair to introduce a kitten with that photo though, so I present to you the formal adoption photos of our two newest pets, brought to you by enduring patience and painstaking work lying on the floor and perched atop an armchair:
Sam named his cat Ruby because he claimed she had red eyes. I am an excellent mother for agreeing to adopt what I just assumed was a demon red-eyed cat. Turns out she is just adorable.
My kiddos have been wonderful with the kittens. They’ve been so good about giving the cats their space and being gentle. Jack has even been carrying Starfire around the house explaining things to her. Alex overheard him talking to his cat when he was standing in front of the guinea pigs that we are pet-sitting right now.
Jack: “No, Starfire, these are not treats. These are guests.”
I wish I were as awesome as Jack.
I would also like to assure all of you that the gerbil tanks have lids that are tightly clamped down. We’re not going to have any gerbil treats either.
I can’t wait until all my kids head off to the first day of school tomorrow so that I can have the kittens all to myself. Nobody try to reach me. I’ll be petting cats.