January 15th 2012 10:46 am
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My momma was dating this great man, and they went over to his mom's house about a month before Momma's bday. His mom's neighbor had some cats, and two of the ladies happened to have kittens at the same time. So, his mom dragged Momma over to look at the kittens.
Well, here's a little backstory on my first "home", if you can call it that. There once was a place called "The Tiger Ranch". They claimed to be a no kill shelter, but really? They treated the cats there horribly. Dirty, smelly, no vet treatments... So the SPCA went to shut them down. Now, most of the kitties roamed "free" on the ranch, so it was hard for the nice people at the SPCA to rescue them, cause if all these strangers came in with kitty carriers, you'd get scared too, right? Right. Well, this lady, she used to work there, so she got in her car and went down to the ranch after the SPCA left for the night. Cause the cats knew her, they all came running. She put as many in her car as she could, and drove home. This was A LOT of kitties. And her home is tiny. So, she kept 4 or 5, and the rest? She let loose in the neighborhood to go feral. Poor things. Anyways...
So, Momma's sitting in the house, playing with me and my brothers and sisters, and we're having fun. I really really REALLY liked her. I'd just cuddle up on her shoulder, and if she tried to play with another kitten, I'd cry. If she tried to put me down, I'd cry and try to climb back up her. The lady and Momma's bf's mom took a look at me, declared me a female (hahaha), and we went back to her house. I was the runt of 5 kittens. The other litter only had 2 torty kittens, and the runt didn't make it. The lady wanted Momma to wait a week or two to adopt me, but BF's mom talked her into letting me go home with Momma, even though I was only 5 weeks old.
Well, Momma's bf's lil sister is friends with The Lady's daughter, so I already had an unofficial name, Emanon. No Name backwards. (They got stumped after naming 6 other kittens. I don't blame them.) So, Momma, BF, and BF's momma are all trying out names for me while playing with me in the living room. And, lo and behold, Momma spots a flea. Then another. She flips me over, much to my dismay, and finds DOZENS of fleas on my tummy. "No wonder he's so tiny! Poor thing is being eaten alive!"
So, I got my first bath. Fun times. (Insert sarcasm here) Good thing about that? 1) No more fleas 2) The only thing gentle enough available was apple scented baby shampoo, so I smelled reeeeeeeeally nummy! BF's Mom went and bought me a couple of cans of kitten milk, plus my starter supplies (a feather toy that I just recently killed, litter box, litter, kibble, and a dish). The milk was super awesome. Momma says that's why I've grown so much, since she was able to rescue me from The Lady's house at such a young age and all that.
Well, Momma and BF had a little dilemma. I didn't look like an Emanon. So, while I was playing in my room that first week getting used to not being with my siblings, and all the cool smells in this house, they were making lists of names. Momma pulled out her baby name books (including her "What NOT to Name Your Baby" book) and started hunting. That didn't work. So, they went all celebrity and started listing food, such as Quesadilla (Cause I'm orange and white), Chow Mein (BF thought it was funny... I dun get it), and then started saying dog in all the languages they knew. Apparently some of my first favorite toys were doggy tug ropes and squeaky toys, so they said I was more dog than cat. Pssh. Luckily, Momma remembered a couple of things. One was something her mom said when she was little. "If you can't pick a name, smash them all together. What do you get? Cricket." The other was the lucky cricket from Mulan. I made noises like him whenever I tried to meow. I still do. Put the two together, and you've got my name. Tada!
So, that's the story of how my Momma rescued me and I got my name. Now, I'm going to go drag my dolphin toy down the hall again. Momma moved it, and it is definitely not where it belongs.
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