Yesterday, Rosalie came home from 4-Paws with two kittens, two brother tabbies about six weeks old. At the shelter they’d been name Pinto and Poncho but we decided to rename them Tuffy and Tiger.
Here's Tiger: And here's Tuffy:
Tiger is just a little bigger than Tuffy, but Tuffy is the more aggressive of the two. Are they ours to keep? Actually, we have them on a foster-parenting deal, keeping them until it’s time for shots and tutoring (we try not to use the n-word around them). But I ask you, are we going to keep these two for another four or five weeks and then take them back, telling the folks at 4-Paws that we decided we didn’t want them? Yeah, like that’s gonna happen. Squeakie sort of ignores them but isn’t afraid of them, but Charlie refuses to accept them and spends his time underneath our bed whenever the two interlopers are out and about. We put food and water and a litter box in our guest bathroom and keep them there most of the time, letting them out occasionally to get used to the house. Last night, while I was watching the D-Backs game, both of them slept on my lap for about an hour before I carried them into their new digs in the bathroom. This morning, Tiger had somehow hurt his front leg and didn’t want to walk on it. We can’t figure out how he could have done that. So on Monday, it’s off to the vet to see what’s wrong. We hope it’s nothing serious because we don’t want our 4-Paw friends to think we’re lousy foster parents.
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