Our First Night

Well, we're home.

I picked them up from their foster mother after work last night; it was clear she didn't really want to let them go, so that was kind of awkward. I thanked her for taking such good care of them and then headed off for the subway.

Apparently I need to take my kittens on walks through Chelsea more often. I don't think I've ever gotten more winks and smiles than I did last night while walking down 16th Street. Everyone wanted to see who was in my cage. We were very popular on the subway, too. (Thank the good Lord, there were seats!) People would peer in and say, "What a cute kitt -- oh, there's two!"

The girl curled up in the back of the carrier and stared into the corner; the boy stood valiantly at the front door and mewed. Of course, he couldn't be heard over the traffic and subway noise, but he looked very brave. About 125th Street he gave up and sat on his sister for the rest of the ride.

Once home, the first thing I did was show them the litter box. Then they started exploring the apartment. The girl made a few loops around, then headed for the bathroom...and squatted in the box. Yay! And then I thought, where's the boy?

He was hanging from the bedroom curtains.

Oh boy.

They still don't have names. The foster mother told me she had named them Rio and Chantal. Rio is okay, I suppose, but Chantal? I am not giving my princess a white trash stripper name. (Apologies to any Chantals reading this blog.) At the moment I think the list of potential names is headed by Scratchy and Bitey. It doesn't matter which is which.

After their dinner, I stretched out on the sofa to watch TV, though mostly I watched the two cats dart from one end of the apartment to the other, up this, down that, under here, over there. The girl likes to get on top of things and ambush her unsuspecting brother from above. The boy likes to hide under the bed and leap out at her. And my feet. Presently the boy leapt onto the sofa and curled up behind my knees and went to sleep. Then the girl (maybe I could name them Fresh and The Girl? If you're not reading Fresh Pepper -- start!!!) joined us and went to sleep in front of my chest. Awww.

At bedtime, I discovered the girl's favorite game is "chase Andy's toes under the sheets." Ow.

This morning about 5:30 I was awakened with a paw in the face, and opened my eyes to discover both kitties smiling and purring at me, rubbing their faces against mine. They had come in to wish me happy birthday! (32 today!)

No, I'm not that naive. I know cats. I know how they use affection to manipulate their owners. This is the "Oh, I'm ever so good and I love you so much and I'm going to purr and meow and paw you until you get your ass out of bed and feed me and then I'll go back to attacking your toes when you least expect it."

They were both fascinated with the shower. I have a clear shower curtain. The girl sat on the mat and stared, while the boy was obsessed with chasing the water as it ran down the curtain. He only fell into the tub twice.

They were equally fascinated watching me shave. Of course, while I was standing there, the girl took a jump and a swipe at my...er, ummm...you know...and I said, sternly, "That's not for pussy." True story.

Right now they are running around playing with anything and everything. Who knew a beer bottle cap could be so entertaining?

I will try to get some pictures of them, but they don't stay in one place very long.

Cats can live to be 18. That means I could still have these guys when I'm 50.

Whoa.