There Are No Ordinary Cats Anywhere

My Buddy, My Body Pillow

As promised, I come bearing cuteness. But first, a little background.

You are interrupting

When we fostered The Six, as Mr Findingmoxie and I have come to call our little cast of To Kill A Mockingbird (see all entries from July to Sept 2012), many of you probably chalked it up to crazy cat lady syndrome. Now, I don’t entirely deny that, but we did have a method to our madness. Mr Findingmoxie believed he was allergic to cats and rather than simply adopt cats we would only have to return once the sneezing started, I reasoned that fostering might be the altruistic and guilt-free way to test Mr Findingmoxie’s allergies. Granted, I did not quite imagine The Six. I had something more like The Two in mind—in what would essentially be a gentle introduction to the joys of kitten- and cat-hood for Mr Findingmoxie. But when I saw those six tiny feral faces HISSING at me, I knew that I had a higher calling. Besides, I figured that with The Six, there could be no doubt either way if Mr Findingmoxie was allergic or not. It was pure math: if he could countenance six, then two cats would be a snap. And Mr Findingmoxie could never resist an argument based in maths.

Fiyero's Tiny Little Face

A long, hard and gloriously adorable summer of fostering ensued. The good news was that Mr Findingmoxie was not allergic. The bad news was that I may have slightly miscalculated on how much Mr Findingmoxie would love kitten hijinks. In that volume, anyway! All the best laid plans…and so on. 

We had always said that we would have cats in the states once we moved back and so I headed to the SFPCA. I was immediately introduced to a skinny, panther of a kitten with bat ears and enormous eyes. He was cautious, but soon lost himself in a game and burrowed into my lap, hunting after his toy. And just like that, with his tiny little face rubbing against my knee, he was mine.

Another little black kitten in a pen nearby caught my eye, but he was already playing with another family and I assumed was practically adopted. I set my sights elsewhere, telling myself there were other kittens for me. But I really couldn't get that kitten off my mind; it was a niggling feeling that I was finding difficult to dismiss.  I was nearly talked into adopting an adorable tabby with pretty manners when I gave in and asked about the other black kitten. Yes, he was available, the other family was still deciding. I high-tailed it over there and met a chubby bundle of pure love. This bub just threw himself into my arms and rumbled loudly. He didn't even need the pretense of a game. I couldn't believe the other family walked away from this little gem. For a giddy moment, that niggling sense became the hand of FATE and little chubs was coming home with me.

Try to nap without Dex and Fiyero. Dare you.

And that’s how I met Fiyero, my little panther princeling, and C.K. Dexter Haven.

Kitty chaise lounges

Paws clasped at sunset

How Fiyero and Dexter met is a whole other story. Given that they weren't littermates and had not shared a pen, it fell to us to introduce them properly. Now, cats can be very contrary and cannot be coerced. We had to take it nice and slow. The shelter recommended separate rooms and letting them see each other for a few minutes at a time. What ensued was a week of tiny kitten tantrums (i.e., hilarity).  Imagine a dog gate in the hallway, where I sat on one side with Fiyero, Mr Findingmoxie with Dexter on the other side. Now imagine both kittens jamming their tiny kitten paws through the gate and smacking each other in the head frenziedly while the humans shook with helpless laughter. Good times. 

Needless to say, before the week was out, we started to see this: 

In which Dexter wears Fiyero like a scarf

Then, we started to see this:             

And it was good. 

Fiyero, for want of modesty

So, may I present Fiyero, the princeling panther, who loves prosecco corks. He loves their wobbliness and knocks them all over the flat (prosecco is now a hobby we can both share!). He loves chewing on plastic, even if it is just hanging out of the fridge for a second. He inhales catnip, licking it up in a frenzy and going frantic with energy. He plays fiercely, but always retracts claws when coming in to people contact. Fiyero loves hiding under beds and blankets, snuggling down into a warm dark corner. He is MAD for his tubes-tring toy and stands in front of the fridge, purring and kneading his feet in place. He lifts his face up for head-rubs. He crawls into your lap and butts his head into your cheek for cheek to cheek rubbing and then settles into your arms like a baby. Fiyero sleeps on his back, tummy in air. He contorts across you and purrs. He gobbles up dry food like it is crack and it is going out of style. He walks on tiny cat feet with a light and elegant step. He dangles off the cat tree and fights Dexter for the top spot. He may get carried away with playing and always FINISHES the game, which usually ends in him play-bullying Dex. He loves chasing and tumbling with Dexter--possibly WAY more than Dexter loves being chased and tumbled. 

Dexter adopting Persian New Year

Dexter, the Faithful Hound

Dexter is the cat who should have been a dog. He comes running when you call and when you speak to him, he maintains eye contact very politely until you are out of words. He follows us around and needs to be in the same room. He loves watching Mr Findingmoxie cook--or he loves watching Dr Who on the ipad (as Mr Findingmoxie does when he cooks). He does have favourite toys and will GROWL lest you try to take them away. He will growl even if you have no interest in taking them away, but I suspect it's a game he likes to play. Anything with feathers must be destroyed. Dexter is also like a koala bear and loves being carried around room to room, while being stroked. He talks to himself, grunts when he jumps down from heights, gets his nails caught in things and forgets how to retract, hanging there helplessly. He loves eating from Fiyero's food bowl before finishing his and thinks I don't notice this. The little rascal. 

Long story short (too late!!! you cry), you can't say the findingmoxie tribe doesn't have any personality. We may have too much. And frankly, we wouldn't have it any other way. Well, Mr Findingmoxie could probably deal with a little less. 

UPDATE: When I began writing this post last month, Fiyero was a little under the weather. He wasn't eating as well as he should have been and seemed a bit tired. We took him to the vet and it was there that he was diagnosed with FIP, the same kitten disease that took Boo Radley. I was faced with a horrible decision,  watch Fiyero get weaker and weaker because I was unable to let go or put him to sleep before the illness hit his central nervous system and he really suffered. For a week, we watched him and tried to entice him with all the naughty foods he was never allowed--to no avail. He stopped eating and only wanted to sleep on my lap. Soon, he no longer wanted to cuddle and just wanted to be alone. Dexter stopped sleeping with him and I realised I was watching my kitten slowly starve to death. It was the most harrowing decision I have ever ever had to make, but it needed to be done. We were with him at the end and I hope he knew how very much he was loved and adored. I am just grateful that we had the chance to give him a home and a happy one at that. 

My experience with the SFPCA was truly amazing though, the Vets were all so kind and caring, all costs were waived because we had adopted Fiyero from their shelter, and later, I received a touching condolence card. Thank you, SFPCA, for making a difficult time a bit easier. 

I could not face deleting this post, or finishing it until now.  I still miss Fiyero and I know Dexter does. But we are good. Taking it one day at a time--or in Dex's case, one happy, gluttonous feeding at a time.