Blue Crystal Sky | My Two Cats

Hello again, and welcome to the third post at My Two Cats . I didn't begin with two cats as my blog name suggests. When I rescued Mitsy I already had two seniors. That leads me to the topic of this article. I wasn't sure if the adults would instantly accept her, if they would physically attack, or if they would hide in fear of this fluffy little invader. Turns out none of the above happened.  Why I Didn't Immediately Allow Contact  The initial introduction went better than expected, but it wasn't without challenges. As I said in my second post, I waited to introduce the feral kitten. She could have had anything from worms to feline leukemia, and I waited because I wanted to protect my indoor cats until after a thorough veterinary exam.  How the Older Cats and a Dog Reacted to a Feral Kitten The two older ones did lots of hissing but didn't attack or run off in fear. Mitsy was clearly put off by their not-so-welcoming reactions, but the hissing and lunging lessened e

Welcome back to my new blog and my second post. If you read my first entry I said that I'd follow up on how I helped the feral kitten I rescued from the backyard, and I'm posting it a day earlier than expected. I plan on posting a few times a week, and it may be more often until my site is established.  Anyway, after bringing Mitsy inside I was able to examine her. Thankfully she wasn't trying to bite me or escape. I quickly retrieved the carrier I used for my shih-tzu and lined it with a towel. I also offered her water, a little wet food, and a small litterbox made from a shallow plastic lunchmeat container. The cage would also keep her safe when I wasn't able to actively watch her. Kittens are like toddlers, and they must be supervised.  Mitsy My Little Feral Either Mitsy was at least partially weaned or she was extremely hungry and finished the food. At this point, she seemed to realize that I was a friend. She became relaxed enough to play with a cat dancer toy, and

Three years ago on a warm and breezy autumn evening, I heard what I first thought was the cry of a kildeer in the far end of the backyard. As I sat at the dining room table I soon realized that it wasn't a bird. It sounded more and more like a kitten in distress, and I had to investigate. I had been secretly wishing for a kitten, and maybe the cat distribution system had finally worked in my favor.  My cat Panda Bear was 13 years old, and the dreaded thought that he wouldn't always be around had crossed my mind more than once. Having a kitten or another cat to care for would soften the inevitable blow. I'll save that story for another post.  Anyway, after digging through one of two kitchen junk drawers for a working flashlight, I ventured outside as the sun sank below the trees and further darkened the landscape. Following the sound to the far corner of the one-acre yard brought me to a scrubby-looking bush and thick weeds in the neighbor's yard. I bent down to see the