I usually do “Three for Thursday” but this week is a story of two. When my parents’ most recent cat passed away a few months ago they thought it would be their last. I’m 45 years old, and they’ve had cats since I was nine years old. Thunder, Sunshine, Twilight, Squeaky, Fuzzer, Foxie, Missy, Patches, Ivan, Bow, CG and innumerable stray cats have graced their lives over the years, most adopted as adult rescues and most living well into their late teens.
They started missing having a cuddly kitty around Thanksgiving. They wanted to wait until March of next year to adopt since they have a two-week vacation coming up in late winter. They decided they wanted a delicate young female cat, not so young as to still be rambunctious but not on the last of her nine lives either.
And then they stopped at their vet’s office to drop off a pet food donation for the holidays. They happened to mention they’d be looking for an adult female in the springtime, since the vet sometimes gets drop-offs or knows of “free to good home” opportunities. That’s when the vet tech told them about two young brothers she was fostering. They had been found in a crate on the back patio of a house that was going to be demolished. Thankfully a neighbor noticed them and arranged for their care.
My parents said absolutely not, they didn’t want kittens, didn’t want boys, didn’t want two! That lasted about two days. They adopted Harvey and Barry the following Sunday, because sometimes your cat finds you. Or cats, in this case!
They’re about nine months old, super sweet, super cuddly, super sneaky troublemakers and my parents couldn’t possibly love them more!
Thanks for all the pictures Mom and Dad!!!