So, back in April I was foolish enough to adopt two newborn abandoned kittens. I heard them crying outside and figured their mama would come for them soon. Not! They cried from 6:30am to 12:30pm. So, I called a cat expert ("R", K's friend since 2nd grade) and went to buy kitty milk and bottles, as per his instructions. One of the kittens passed at two weeks, but this kitty is still hanging around. I raised her in a crate in my laundry room, where she still resides. I named her "FIGGY" and she is a crazy cat. Her brother "Conan the Barbarian" is buried in K's pet cemetery outside my front door, under the lemon tree. I gave him that name because he needed a strong name, as he was the runt. I always fed and bathed him first, while Figgy cried in the crate. Every night before I went to sleep I read the "Raising Cats" book. During the day I read online instructions for raising orphan kittens. All very helpful. One lady wrote that sometimes, no matter what you do, they don't survive and it's not your fault. That helped me get through the death of "Conan the Barbarian." Round-the-clock feeding and potty training a kitten just to lose him is very hard. I AM NOT A CAT PERSON!!! But don't you dare mess with my Figgy. Well, except for K who was nuts enough to bathe Figgy and her cat Figaro. (both female cats) Yeah, Figaro sounds like a male cat, but that's what K named her black and white cat. So, when I took in the abandoned kittens, one was black and white and looked more like a Figaro than K's cat, hence the name Figgy. So she is, wet and trying to tongue dry.
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