Yep, you heard correctly, folks. We – the family renowned
for never having pets, not even a goldfish- have got pets. Two of them to be
precise. Meet Pink and Floyd, our 9 week old kittens.
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| Pink and Floyd |
For all of my 20 years of life, my parents have resolutely
vowed to never let us have pets because they were sure they’d end up doing all the work once the novelty wore
off. This is entirely unjust. I bought a collar and lead for my Bear Factory
dog and dragged it around the kitchen floor every day for walkies. My favourite
Barbie ever was the one where her dog poos and you pick up the little blobs
with a magnetic poo shovel. To this day, I will always ask my friends if I can
pick up the poo when we take their dogs for a walk. If that isn’t commitment I
don’t know what is. (Please note: the theme here is how committed I am to pets,
and not how obsessed I am with dog poo.)
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| It quickly became clear they now owned our house. |
Anyway, the ‘rents finally gave in when our family friends’
cat had a litter and two adorable kittens
were up for grabs. Here’s a run down of everything I’ve learned this first
week.
PetsAtHome is my new
shopping obsession. Who knew there was this whole elite world of pets
accessories that I’ve never been apart of? It was like going to Primark for the
first time and realising just how much money you could waste on crap in one
single shop. When I went to get supplies the day before the kittens arrived, I
felt like, for want of a better phrase, the cat that got the cream. There is so much to choose from! I had written on
my list ‘scratch post’ and did not expect to be confronted with an entire aisle
of scratch palaces. There was one installation with a hammock and an array of
tunnels that was genuinely £100. I’ll admit it took me a few seconds to
convince myself not to get it. I mean, they can’t have a fancier bedroom than I
do. I did buy an adorable set of kitten toys but was annoyed at myself for
automatically going for the pink set. Next time I go I’m definitely getting the
blue ones, no traditional gender roles for my kittens, no thank you.
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| The Bishops Avenue of the cat world. |
Writing their names
on forms is adorable. Whether it be your new PetsAtHome loyalty card or
signing them up to the vet, writing Pink and Floyd in the name box never gets
old.
Getting them in the
carry case is traumatic. Especially when there’s two of them. Pink is by
far the friendlier one and was quite happy to be plopped in. Floyd, on the
other hand, went absolutely mental because she hates being touched, let alone
shoved in a cage. Her hissing, biting and scratching eventually set Pink off
too. (Trying to think of a metaphor here I've come up with Ms Trunchbull's spikey cupboard in Matilda which is a bit rogue but I'm shoving it in here anyway).
Sharing does not seem
to be caring. Despite the fact the sisters clearly love each other a lot
(they nap cuddled up together which is 15/10 on the adorable ratings), they are
unable to share food. Well, more precisely, Floyd is quite happy to share but
Pink, on the other paw, growls whenever Floyd tries to eat next to her. Pink
also seems to never lose her appetite and will eat when: she feels happy, she
feels stressed, she sees Floyd eating, she passes the food and thinks ooh is it that time again?
Much more interested in the stairs than they are in me
I know this is pretty much a known fact but everything smells. I knew it in theory,
but the real stench of a room where they eat little cubes of fish and meat and
then proceed to poo it out a metre away is actually hard to fully describe.
I’m a psycho mum. Yep,
I always thought I’d be chilled, but turns out, I’m the type of mum who will
call up the school everyday to check my kids are wearing sun cream, even in
winter. I’m genuinely terrified all the time that something bad will happen to
them. Even though they are currently just in a few rooms, with no exists, I
keep getting into my head they’ve jumped out a –closed- window. The other day I
found Pink sleeping but woke her up to check she was still alive.
Fleas are the worst. I
didn’t want to believe that my little fluff balls could have actual parasites
on them, but after watching them scratch for a few days, the truth was
unavoidable. We gave them a pill which makes them scratch loads and then all
the fleas fall out. Having to do this then freak them out with the vacuum
cleaner was probably equivalent to my mum reassuring me it was for my own good
when she had to scrape my scalp for lice everyday in Year 2. Still don't think either of us are over that trauma.
Taking a selfie with a kitten is harder than it seems...
So that’s it for my first week with my kittens. I’ve turned
into a nervous wreck. Pink is chilled and cuddly but also potentially has an
eating problem. Floyd is still shy and not cuddly but she killed a huge spider
the other day in one swipe and ate it so she’s clearly going to be a badass. And scratching for
fleas has left them comfortably numb. [1]
[1] Please note, if you don’t get this
reference. Look up Pink Floyd before coming to meet our kitties or they’ll be
offended.
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