I forgot what it was like, having a new kitten in the house.
You see this little, scrawny, crying kitten outside and you can't help but want to care for it so you coax it over to where you are already feeding the neighborhood strays.
He immediately takes to you and your daughter.
But because he's lived life in the streets, he's not so fond of other cats. Three months of having to fight for survival has earned him the name Razzi.
He kicks Nimue out of her house and takes over.
Because you are married to a person who is not 'one with the animals' Razzi has to live outside. You and your daughter spend enormous amounts of time just sitting and loving up little Razzi until he gets plump and round and looks healthy again.
Then, one day, you go out to feed him and he's limping badly, not eating or drinking, and has a bloody nose.
So you bring him inside to make him comfortable, and too keep him safe, until the vet office opens on Monday. You were already selling things on ebay in order to pay to get him fixed/inoculated and for food for all the strays this winter. What's one more vet bill? You block off the living room to keep the other cats out (4 house cats), and make him comfortable. You search online and find out the bloody nose could be an upper respiratory infection and by Monday he has stopped limping and the swelling is almost gone. You decide to keep him in the house until his vet visit, just to be safe. In the mean time, the one who is not 'one with the animals' hears about the amount this will cost and is baffled that anyone would spend so much money on an animal that is not 'theirs'. He gets talked into allowing Razzi to stay inside as part of the family and given to his daughter who is about to turn seventeen.
And that's the story of how Razzi came to live with us.
Chapter two of Razzi's life includes threatening to beat up the local household residents until they have to take cover,
Enjoying excellent music,
Learning how to climb and uproot houseplants
And ticking this one off so much that she felt the need to climb up onto your desk while you are writing this post, and pee all over your stack of papers.
It almost makes me feel not guilty for his third vet visit next month. The one which will ensure that he won't create anymore unwanted kittens, like he himself was.
Well. Unwanted until now that is.
"Thank you for saving me", he says.