The Story of Mitzi.
Though I guess it starts off as the story of Kerbie. And Toby. And Jerry. But not the story of why I'm MummaKat, lol!
We got Kerbie one blustery November 14 years ago. He'd been abandoned, and a friend was going to take him to the Humane Society, but was desparately looking for a home for him first, the Humane Society was to be the last resort. He was a beautiful and very spunky long-haired brown tabby kitten. He kept us in stitches, when we weren't watching our ankles. He was an attack kitten. He also liked to sit beside the fish tank, with one paw in the water all the way up to his armpit. Decided to get a lid for that tank after he killed a Beta.
We decided Kerbie needed some company, so we asked the vet about kittens, and found Toby. He was the sweetest little thing, all cream with ginger cow spots all over him. He was a shoulder cat, and quickly became my cat. Despite the fact we lived in a busy part of Toronto, we decided to let the both of them be outdoor cats. It was funny watching them learn to climb trees from the squirrels, especially watching Kerbie walk back down a tree just like he was walking down a spiral staircase! One night we got a phone call though, someone had seen Toby chased out onto Steeles by a big dog, and under the wheels of a car. So Kerbie became an indoor cat, and we got Jerry.
Jerry was another long-haired brown tabby kitten, with a much sweeter personality than Kerbie. Kerbie had by now turned into a cat with attitude, and was distinctly Liebchen's cat. He could have the attitude, I had the sweetness.
Fast forward another decade, we're living in a small village outside of Toronto. And Kerbie's attitude was only getting worse. In fact, he'd started peeing on laundry. Especially on my and the kids' laundry. Only in the basement though, if we left it piled on the floor for more than say 2 minutes. After a year of me bitching to Liebchen, I took him in to get him checked out. Nothing physically wrong with him, just attitude. They suggested meds, kitty valium I kid you not, but they didn't do much for the attitude. So I made sure laundry was always in a bin, so he couldn't get at it. Funnily, at this point Liebchen decided that he really needed to air his hockey bag out after every game. Something he'd not done in the dozen years I'd known him. Something the vet had particularly warned me against, given the lovely skunky odour of hockey gear seems to be, um, attractive to cats with Kerbie's prediliction. You guessed it, Kerbie liberally peed on all Liebchen's hockey gear. All of a sudden the whole matter became a lot less funny. At least to Liebchen, I was starting to find it a little hysterical ... ;-) But the peeing was getting worse, in both frequency and scope, so earlier this fall, at age 14, we put Kerbie down.
Two weeks ago good friends of ours were over for dinner, and were telling us about this sweet lil tiger stripe guy that had showed up at their door in the country, and how they'd taken him to the vets to find a home. Well, as far as I was concerned, we were in the market for a kitten! So we went down, and said we wanted him. Well, he was a she, and I guess not tigers are striped ginger, cause she's a short-haired brown tabby. But with the sweetest personality, and she's a shoulder rider! Her name is Mitzi, and she's probably 6 weeks old. The kids love her to pieces, and of course argue about who's turn it is to hold her.
So the adventure begins again.
Though I guess it starts off as the story of Kerbie. And Toby. And Jerry. But not the story of why I'm MummaKat, lol!
We got Kerbie one blustery November 14 years ago. He'd been abandoned, and a friend was going to take him to the Humane Society, but was desparately looking for a home for him first, the Humane Society was to be the last resort. He was a beautiful and very spunky long-haired brown tabby kitten. He kept us in stitches, when we weren't watching our ankles. He was an attack kitten. He also liked to sit beside the fish tank, with one paw in the water all the way up to his armpit. Decided to get a lid for that tank after he killed a Beta.
We decided Kerbie needed some company, so we asked the vet about kittens, and found Toby. He was the sweetest little thing, all cream with ginger cow spots all over him. He was a shoulder cat, and quickly became my cat. Despite the fact we lived in a busy part of Toronto, we decided to let the both of them be outdoor cats. It was funny watching them learn to climb trees from the squirrels, especially watching Kerbie walk back down a tree just like he was walking down a spiral staircase! One night we got a phone call though, someone had seen Toby chased out onto Steeles by a big dog, and under the wheels of a car. So Kerbie became an indoor cat, and we got Jerry.
Jerry was another long-haired brown tabby kitten, with a much sweeter personality than Kerbie. Kerbie had by now turned into a cat with attitude, and was distinctly Liebchen's cat. He could have the attitude, I had the sweetness.
Fast forward another decade, we're living in a small village outside of Toronto. And Kerbie's attitude was only getting worse. In fact, he'd started peeing on laundry. Especially on my and the kids' laundry. Only in the basement though, if we left it piled on the floor for more than say 2 minutes. After a year of me bitching to Liebchen, I took him in to get him checked out. Nothing physically wrong with him, just attitude. They suggested meds, kitty valium I kid you not, but they didn't do much for the attitude. So I made sure laundry was always in a bin, so he couldn't get at it. Funnily, at this point Liebchen decided that he really needed to air his hockey bag out after every game. Something he'd not done in the dozen years I'd known him. Something the vet had particularly warned me against, given the lovely skunky odour of hockey gear seems to be, um, attractive to cats with Kerbie's prediliction. You guessed it, Kerbie liberally peed on all Liebchen's hockey gear. All of a sudden the whole matter became a lot less funny. At least to Liebchen, I was starting to find it a little hysterical ... ;-) But the peeing was getting worse, in both frequency and scope, so earlier this fall, at age 14, we put Kerbie down.
Two weeks ago good friends of ours were over for dinner, and were telling us about this sweet lil tiger stripe guy that had showed up at their door in the country, and how they'd taken him to the vets to find a home. Well, as far as I was concerned, we were in the market for a kitten! So we went down, and said we wanted him. Well, he was a she, and I guess not tigers are striped ginger, cause she's a short-haired brown tabby. But with the sweetest personality, and she's a shoulder rider! Her name is Mitzi, and she's probably 6 weeks old. The kids love her to pieces, and of course argue about who's turn it is to hold her.
So the adventure begins again.
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