Having Kittens: Dream and Icicle

Sat in front of my pillow as I finally came up to bed.
A run across cluttered rooms.
Meows, cried and vibrating purrs.
Domestic, short-hair strokes.

Dream and Icicle, derived from Carrie calling them the Dreamsicle Twins. The names of the first pets I have ever owned. Names which I long though I would struggle over when the time came, but they just fit, naturally.

Orange and white gentle kittens, about 5 months old.
Rescue kitties, picked up yesterday and welcomed into our home.

Giggling. Broad smiles. Delighted claps.
Wonder what they’ll do. Watch them watch us.

That’s only a series of short sentences. They have their freedom and they are surrounded by love. For their weight they are not quiet bounding up the stairs. It was heartbreaking to close the door to them last night; I just didn’t want them to get hurt in the bed. It was fun opening the door this morning; I figured they were sleep I just wanted to give them the choice to say hi. Seconds later, they sauntered in, jumped on the bed and did just that.

Good morning. Dream nips with his teeth; nothing painful except when he did it on my ear. So now more faces and eyes looking at me that I don’t want to leave in the morning.

They are new to our new family. Temple, Carrie, Eddie, Jack – and Dream and Icicle. On the way home, with them in the carrier on my lap. Eddie asked if they had last names. I said they had one name only. We kept the secret from him all week, even as Carrie bought cat toys, litter holder and cat food. He guessed seconds before we entered PetCo to pick them up from Karen who gets to house them there. Carrie had the cat carrier, ad we just got him to spell “pet” on the sign when wide-eyed, grinning comprehension dawned.

We went to the same PetCo earlier to look at two even younger kittens; we played with them with Jack; they were tiny and grey and black. But Karen was slightly concerned that having someone as young as Jack with them wouldn’t work out so well – unintentional damage to all concerned. It seemed sincere and on the way out as we were running out of time, she showed us the former Maxx and Moe who had been adopted out once and returned.

I think it was the blinding white of their coats that got me. And it is very soft. It was an almost incidental hello, but we decided on the way home to welcome them into our homes instead of the two others. I wanted all four plus the other two; an excess of purry fur – or furry purr.

Ear scratches.
Tail flicks.
Back arches

New life.