Introducing Mr. Orwell

So my husband and kids have always wanted a cat, but I don't like cats.  I have had really bad experiences with cats, and my husband's cat who now lives with his mom once scratched or bit a huge chunk out of my baby boy's arm.  Then when we found out that our son is allergic to cats, we gave up on getting a cat.  I wanted a dog, but admittedly, they are too much work at this stage of our lives.  So we got a bunny.  We loved Cody immensely, so when Cody died, we got another Holland lop bunny.  Muffin is a lot of work and has done some costly damage to our new house, but she is cute and cuddly, albeit hopeless when it comes to litter training.

All was fine and good I thought, but I could tell that all three still wished for a cat.  My son's allergies were a fine excuse.  My husband has had a recurring dream about a white cat with blue eyes named Lyda.  So, I joked that we could not get a cat unless it was hypoallergenic, white (or white with gray streaks to match our marble and granite counter tops) with blue eyes (to match our accent walls) like Lyda in his dream, and that ideal cat needed to have the temperament of a dog.  I knew such a combination was not possible, so we were content with our rabbit...until Mrs. Bloodworth hosted 2nd grade pet day.  I brought our bunny for our son to present at Pet Day, while another student's father brought a Siberian cat named Gulliver.  Gulliver possessed every single quality I had defined in perfect cat list.  Siberians do not have the same allergen in their saliva to which most people are allergic, so they are hypoallergenic for over 75% of the population.  Gulliver had an enormous amount of soft, fluffy white and gray fur, and the most laid back, lazy, loyal temperament imaginable..just like a dog.  Gulliver's eyes were blue, and his owner told me that Siberians generally possess all those attributes.  So as soon as I got home that morning, I began searching for a Siberian kitten like Gulliver.

Shy Gulliver at Pet Day

There are only a few Siberian breeders in America, and I could not find any in our state.   The nearest ones for sales were at least a 10 hour drive away, did not possess the same coloring, and were priced at a minimum of $900 each.  I put in notification requests in all our surrounding states for any Siberian rescue cats if ever found as these were cheaper, but usually not full bred or healthy.  We never heard back, so, we gave up on getting a Siberian kitten.

Then my husband saw an ad on line for this beautiful Siberian kitten.  We tried relentlessly to contact the seller, but the seller was out of town.  I was shocked to eventually learn that they live only 15 minutes away and that their kids attend our small private school where I teach and our kids attend.  I knew that it was meant to be and prepared my heart to receive this beautiful Siberian kitten.  But when they finally called me back, they said this kitten had already been sold but there was a waiting list for the next litter which should be ready in September.  The waiting list was already as long as the average litter size, and there was no guarantee that any of the kittens would look like this one. Plus this breeder charges $1000 per kitten which was way more than we had wanted to spend, especially after you add in vaccines, pet supplies, micro chip, neutering, etc.

So we gave up, but our hearts were now set on receiving a new kitten.  I quickly went through ads on Craig's List for rescue kittens and found an ad for these cute brothers, Picasso and Davinci, at a rescue hospital 35 minutes away.

Davinci was white and gray with green eyes and was advertised as having a gentle, sweet temperament, so he was a closer match to our wishlist.  He was a common domestic short hair, so his temperament would still be more like a typical cat than like a dog.  The shorter fur may be easier on our son's allergies, I reasoned, and certainly easier to clean up and groom.  So, we filled out a ridiculous application (like child adoption papers with so much detail, a cat medical requirement quiz, and a requirement that we sign an agreement to pay $1000 if we do not follow the vaccine schedule, granting permission for home inspections and agreeing to pay court costs if they decide to sue us for not taking proper care of the cat), and then we went to meet him two days later after finally receiving approval to adopt.  When we got there, they relentlessly tried to get us to take home several cats so that Davinci would not be lonely.

We interacted with all of Davinci's siblings, and knew from the start that Elvis (black cat) was far too lively for Muffin.  They were so funny to watch, but our hearts were set on Davinci, so we signed the final papers, and brought Davinci home.  Since Davinci was technically a Father's Day gift for my husband, he got re-naming rights. The kids threw out all sorts of cute suggestions, but they were much too common.  Then my husband said he wanted to consider names of English or European authors.  I suggested Lewis since C.S. Lewis is my favorite, but he found that too common as well. Then I suggested Francis or Schaeffer, but he didn't like that one either.  Then I suggested Orwell, since George Orwell is the pen name for the author of Animal Farm (our farm now has a rabbit and a cat) and 1984 , powerful fiction novels which present the dangers of totalitarian government as contrasted with the divine beauty of human liberty.  That settled it. My husband loved the name, so now Davinci's new name is Orwell.  After just re-reading the historical appendix to Anne Frank: Diary of a Young Girl with the kids and seeing the exact same steps playing out as America moves away from democracy to oligarchy and as persecution of Christians increases and as America withdraws it's support from God's chosen people, Israel, I could not think of a more timely name for our kitten.  It is a timely watchful reminder of where we are headed.  The next day I came across the following quote online while searching something entirely unrelated, so I took that as confirmation that Orwell was the right name for our new pet.

"During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act." - George Orwell

"In our age there is no such thing as 'keeping out of politics.' All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred and schizophrenia."

We are currently on a 30-day trial with Orwell.  Our big concerns were how our son, who is allergic to cats, would respond and whether or not Orwell and Muffin would learn to get along.   Our son's allergies are affected (he sneezed his head off and went through a box of tissues at the rescue center), but we're hoping regular kitten bathing and hand washing will help.  I think I may be allergic, too, for my nose is itchy and runs a lot more now. I refuse to medicate my child for a silly little cat, so that is still the biggest concern. 

Initially, Muffin did not like Orwell at all.  Both seemed afraid of each the first day.  Then Muffin thumped her hind legs against the ground so loudly the room shook, and stared him down fiercely to let him know that she is the boss.  My husband and I have never seen her act that way, and we laughed to the point of tears it as so funny.

Then Orwell got Muffin to chase a golf ball around the house for a bit, and that seemed to bring out  a more playful side of Muffin we haven't seen since she was a baby.  She did a hilarious flying leap (maybe she was attempting a wheelie) and now turns over like a kitten wanting to be scratched, so I think Orwell is helping her.  Now if only she would litter train like Orwell.

 

The second day, Muffin and Orwell progressed from being enemies who fear each other to becoming more like siblings. Orwell stalked Muffin like an annoying little brother, while Muffin continued to ignore him. Eventually Muffin gave in and let Orwell come into her "room". Orwell learned that even though Muffin isn't interesting in playing with him, Muffin will at least drop a few hard pellets (made of poo but Orwell doesn't care) which Orwell kicks around the room as a game or pounces upon as a form of hunting training. I'm disgusted by that game personally, but at least they are learning to accept each other.

Orwell, I know you want Muffin to come out and play with you, but you need to knock on her door more politely.

Look out, Muffin, "Big Brother is watching you." (George Orwell)

Almost friends

Orwell instantly won the hearts of the kids and their dad.  He has been busy trying to  weasel his way into my heart as well. Orwell really is a distraction during my workouts.

See how nicely he matches the counters he must never climb upon ever again!

Orwell was due for his 2nd round of vaccines two days after we adopted him.  I had initially planned to take him to the vet 1.5 miles from our house, but the reviews on-line were not very favorable.  So I took him to the nearest vet with a five star rating, and initially questioned that choice.  I was ignored by the staff as I walked in as they were busy with other clients and with rescue kittens being adopted at the time.  A dog owner assured me I had come to the right place, however.  He had taken his dog to 4 different vets in the area, and all recommended surgery.  This vet, on the other hand, helped his dog cure himself with a simple change in dog food containing more nutrients and probiotics. That sounded good enough for me, and seeing a picture of a cocker spaniel on the wall that looked just like my two childhood pets was all the confirmation I needed.

We waited about 35 minutes to be seen only to be put in a room that reeked from pet vomit, so they moved us to another room where we were so impressed by the vet and vet assistant. The great staff taught our aspiring vet how to perform several procedures and let her practice during our visit. Now our girl is more determined than ever to work with animals professionally some day. They took lots of time with us, gave us a thick binder for first time cat owners, and even gave us two discounts on our bill, $25 for the wait, and another discount for rescuing a kitten.   When we returned, Muffin reminded Orwell that even though she's never been to see a vet, she's still the boss of this house. :-)

I have enjoyed watching Orwell sleep and comparing it to Muffin's sleeping positions.  Orwell moved from a tight to an open sleeping posture over the course of 24 hours with us.

By Day 2, Orwell had lost ALL modesty.  Of course, I am learning that cats never have any modesty from the very beginning.

Here were Muffin's sleeping positions the first week we got her for comparison purposes.

Regarding his allergies,

Our son says, "Oh well,"

Because he sure does love

Mr. Orwell

Like Muffin, Orwell likes to join me in the exercise room for my workouts, but also like Muffin, Orwell tends to fall asleep on the first piece of equipment. 

No matter where we move the plant stand, Orwell will find it and sit under it.  He looks like he's putting himself in time-out, so when he sits here, I go looking throughout the house for cat damage.

Another one of his favorite places is our daughter's very cluttered room.  He camoflauges so well it's hard to find him there.

Today, Muffin needed a bath, so I insisted our daughter give the bath this time.  Her are some pics from her first attempt to bathe Muffin all by herself and of Orwell's attempts to distract/entertain Muffin while her fur dries.