by Lorraine Bartlett / Lorna Barrett / L.L. Bartlett
So I posted my frustration on Facebook and one of my readers, who happens to be a kitty foster Mom, send me a message. We went back and forth and arranged to meet Mooch-Mooch and Sepi. (*Shudder* Who came up with those names? Foster Mom strongly encouraged me to change them -- which was a no brainer.)
It was kind of funny. The pet store has no dedicated "meeting room" to get to know cats, so we had to gather in the store's (very clean) bathroom. Kind of like a clandestine drug deal. Of course, they captured our hearts in just about an instant. They were a little younger than we had planned on (but not by much, they're 13 weeks old), and they came home with us. We named them Pippa and Poppy.
They were TERRIFIED. Why not? We were two GIANT strangers. The first night, they ran around for about an hour, and we put them in the laundry room (out came the baby gates once again) and decided to let them get acclimated to that room first. They'll be staying there at night for a few weeks until we introduce them to the whole house.
Foster Mom warned me I might not get much word done with kittens in our offices.
She was right.
But there have been more smiles in this house in the past 36 hours than there have been for eleven months. I'd say that was a pretty good outcome.