Just a Little Bit

Last Edit August 14, 1999

I held the 6-week old but it was male and long haired and sooo tiny.
So I took it to the car and showed it to my 17 year old, about to be 18.
The one that is delaying his learning permit so he technically does not have to have 50 hours supervised driving to get a license.
Of course, it will require 50 hours driving to get possession of the van.
He needs reminding.
And he took the little 6-week old and went "what have you done!"
In his newly unbandaged feet (48 hours after surgery on them) he hobbled back into Petco.
And we debated.
And we finally picked up the 3-month-old girl.
She is not orange.
She is black and white. Shorthaired tabby. Her back is not striped but her face looks like some exotic wild cat. She is a tabby.
So is Ranger.
I was looking for a girl-kitten, for I wanted a docile cat.
Ranger is not docile.
We debated back and forth.
She could go home.
Now.
I am about to take a trip.
The cats will be baby-sat.
The little one is too little.
I have a chaotic house.
She is docile. And clean and trained.
So we bought a purple collar (of course) and a cat toy (of course) and knowing we had litter and two pans, took the little beast home with us.
She is a cuddler.
She demands to be petted.
She neatly used the pan.
Which is in my room.
On plastic.
We introduced Ranger and "Little-bit".
My son does not like the name.
Ranger, who is a fairly quiet cat, except when scratching at my door and except when his cat pan is dirty, became a howling tower of rage.
He howled.
He hissed.
He spat.
I whisked him from the room.
He scratched me.
He was isolated in my son's room.
She was isolated in mine.
She claimed the bed.
She declared herself mine - or me hers -- by rubbing herself all over me.
Ranger curled up with my son. And then pretended to be an eagle perched on the computer desk hutch by the door.
I called for pizza. Pepperoni and Chicken and Garlic. I held her while I awaited the delivery.
I left her in my room while I ate (2 pieces). I had the chicken.
My son joined me for a short time and ate the pepperoni. He took the leftovers back to his room.
Ranger now is eyeing the baby who sits on my lap eyeing him right back.
I now have a lap-cat.
Ranger is rolling on the floor at my feet while she watches.
I have fed him while holding her.
She is docile and waiting for him to calm down.
It shouldn't be long.
My son does a credible job of hissing and spitting and growling and yowling.
He is the dominant cat in my house.
Ranger knows this.
Ranger will bite lightly when he's had enough petting.
My son will bite him back.

Postscript: Little-bit bit the groomer. Oh this should be interesting.