GUESS WHO?!!!

My journey with Tweetie ends today. Though I'll still be involved with his life, it'll be from a distance. I've been sick with some sort of stomach bug for a few days and my hormones are percolating at dangerous levels. I'm tired. A perfect day to drive a 280 mile round trip to Boston!

My brain isn't working. I hate being a woman sometimes. Get whacked out hormones, always at the worst possible time, then try to act like a "normal" person while under duress. Ugh.

At the last minute I told Sam I was in trouble and asked him what I should do. Instead of doing the trip solo, Sam offered to drive me. If the weather turned bad, which was likely, he'd have 4wd on his car and I'd not have the stress of the drive up. I didn't want to lean on him, but I had to admit it might be the best for most of us and I promised I'd buy gas and a load of Lox and Bagels at Rein's Deli on the way home. What that man won't do for fish, I swear.

The plan was to leave at 2pm to avoid the worst of Boston traffic. Before leaving, I spent some quality time playing and hanging out with Tweetie. All he wanted to do was sit on my lap, play while sitting on my lap or bite my pants. It was a true Hallmark moment.

I packed up some of Tweetie's favortie toys, a cat blanket that Food Lady brought us that smelled like Sockington, a few cans of food and Tweetie's Vet records. The last thing I packed was Tweetie's Adoption Contract.

Yes. Adoption. Contract. It seems that Food Lady has a bit of a crush on Tweetie to the point of feeling it may just be Kismet that Tweetie should come to live alongside his older twin, Sockington and his cohort in crime, Penny. I've known that this was a possibility since July 23rd. I even predicted it would happen! For some reason, I felt I needed to write down my gut feeling after I'd received a note from Jason, asking to come visit Tweetie. I sealed the prediction in an envelope and showed it to Sam to witness it. Now if I could only get my own Psychic Hotline, maybe I could afford my Vet bill!

I wasn't able to say anything about the possibility until enough time and meetings had passed so that everyone felt comfortable with the idea that maybe Tweetie was destined to be part of the family? Tweetie will be on probation once he arrives at The Socks Army HQ and it'll be up to Food Lady, Fatty, Socks & Penny whether or not Tweetie will stay on "forever."

Even if it doesn't work out, Tweetie can always come home to me and I'll find him, maybe not as an exciting home, but a home nonetheless. No pressure. No worries. There are NO villains here. First...let's get Tweetie to Boston and see what happens next.

We packed up the car and Sam put the car into "drive." Tweetie began crying hysterically. Within less than a block, I'd gotten out of the car and jumped into the back seat, where I stayed for the remainder of the trip. Tweetie was content once he had company. My hormones settled down once I started to pet him. I tried to push the thought out of my mind that this was it-this was the last few hours I was going to spend with Tweetie. I felt my gut lurch and tears well up in my eyes. Was it my tummy troubles returning or the inevitable sadness of letting go? I started this journey fully ready to be responsible for whatever the outcome: releasing Tweetie to the woods or finding him a home. It was never in the plan to keep him with my clutter, but I'd be lying if I said it wouldn't be tough to say goodbye.

Ready or not, it was time to carry on; to leave Connecticut and make our way northeast.

I'm very proud of Tweetie. In less than two weeks, he's come out of his angry shell. The once ferocious feline is now a cuddly bug. He's getting along well with his little friends, Sprinkles, Twinkles and Pixie and even spent all night with them last night and never once had to be sequestered to "his room" to give him a "time out" from the others.

Today we enjoyed some play time, which I also video taped! I hope to post some movies of the kittens as soon as I can work out some of the technical details. You'll laugh when you see Tweetie's reaction when he looks up and sees my big cat, Spencer looking down at him from the balcony railing!

The other kittens, too, are doing well. They're all growing, finally eating their food and truly have a wonderful time with each other. It makes me a bit sad to know that this is their last night together. Tomorrow, very early, the kittens go off to be spayed, while Tweetie and I go on a road trip. By Friday, all the kittens will have gone to their forever homes.

And where are Tweetie and I headed? It was one thing that Tweetie had an audience with Food Lady, Sockington's Mom, but now we've been invited to travel to Boston to visit The Socks Army HQ!

Tweetie and Sockington are going to MEET!

With any luck, tomorrow, from the road, I'll be updating our status on Twitter, as well as posting photos via TwitPic. If you keep any eye on my Twitter feed, you should see how we're doing.

The next question, I'm sure you're asking yourself is: Will TWEETIE BE COMING BACK WITH ME? Or will Tweetie be made a high ranking official of Socks Army OR, as rumors suggest, will Tweetie be asked to carry out orders as Sock's body double, thereby keeping Socks safe?

I can't answer that just now, but what I do know is, who knew? Who knew posting a photo and tweeting about a kitten would take us on this crazy journey?!

Fellow Tweetie Fans-

There've been quite a few exciting things going on behind the scenes here at Covered in Cat Hair HQ. Foremost, is the surprising offer we've received to have a High Ranking Official of The Socks Army come to Connecticut to visit Tweetie!

Rumors abound on whether or not this Official was determined to take a DNA sample, to finally put to rest the fears that Sockington had sired a kitten out of wedlock! What would Penny say? Or would she simply growl at Socks for his catty behavior?

Yesterday afternoon, our fears dissolved into joy as we welcomed our special guest, who was none other than Food Lady, herself! Once she entered our humble HQ, we were happy we'd spent all day Saturday cleaning the litter pans and scouring the food bowls. This was no ordinary visitor, no! This was one who's presence brought all the resident cats to full attention. After all, with can opener in hand, was Food Lady going to feed them, too?

Food Lady, was gracious and compassionate to her subjects. She quietly sipped a refreshment and asked politely about Tweetie. After a few minutes, it was clear, Food Lady need be delayed no longer so she was escorted to Tweetie's lodgings for their first meeting.

Tweetie was the perfect gentleman and ran out from his cat carrier hangout to greet Food Lady properly. She extended a hand to him, which he carefully sniffed. After a few moments, and NO biting, Food Lady began to pet Tweetie, to which he responded by deeply purring.

Food Lady also brought Tweetie his very own cherry red shakeymouse, which not only complemented the color of his coat, but was the perfect size for hours of enjoyment.

Tweetie's audience with Food Lady included a tour of the foster suite and meeting of the other foster kittens, Sprinkles, Twinkles & Pixie; along with a jolly play session and, of course, a one course meal, Friskies Pate, Turkey flavor with Chicken baby food blended with it.

All in all the day passed brilliantly and no one was harmed, though possibly a few fingers were nipped at, but only lightly. Tweetie was sad to see Food Lady go, but she assured him that she would keep in touch and hoped to see him again, soon.

Tweetie was overjoyed at the prospect, but being a kitten, was so tired from all the excitement, all he could do was fall asleep and dream of seeing Food Lady again.

Tweetie loves to FLY (and it shows)!

Tweetie's Feral Kitty Boot Camp began almost a week ago. What was once a shy and fearful kitten, has softened and warmed into a sweet kitty. The next stage of the process is to begin to open up Tweetie's comfort zone. This will also allow the poor guy to get a break from hours of alone time.

Tweetie's first escapade was to travel with me to one of the only other rooms that, a) has a door on it and b) doesn't need to be kitten-proofed. Yes, another bathroom! Good thing I have more than one.

It was easy to put Tweetie into a carrier and bring him to the Master Bathroom where he could keep me company while I shower. And no, there is no and will not be ANY photos of this! Do you want to go BLIND? I mean, really!

Never undress in front of a kitten.

Tweetie was a bit nervous, as I expected, but the room isn't that large and he had some toys to occupy his attention. That was, until I turned on the faucet to start the shower.

Tweetie hid. Okay, no problem. I tossed his toys around and coaxed him back out of his carrier. I got into the shower and called out to him. He took one look at me and ripped out a YEEEOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWW!!!!

In cat, I believe this translates to mean: "GET OUT OF THERE!!!! WATER!!!! YOU'LL GET WET!!!!! GET OUT!! GET OUT!! GET OUT!!! OH MY GOD GET OUT!!!"

I ignored Tweetie's pleas and called out again, assuring him that "hoomins need to not smell bad and this is the only way to get there, other than wear too much perfume, which really only masks the problem and doesn't really head the problem off at the pass, like people who think those air fresheners really do anything other than mask a lie. They should clean their house, not spray chemicals on their belongings."

Thinking back on it, maybe all I said was; "It's ok, Tweetie. Don't worry. I'll be out in a minute."

Tweetie just meowed.

After two days in a row of shower-meowing and with feral Mama Cat, Gabby no longer with the other fosters, I got the go ahead to let Tweetie share his play time with the kittens. Finally, no more day-long alone time. There'd be some adjustment time for all kittens concerned, but after that, it should be all right.

In another hour, the lady who is going to adopt Sprinkles will be here with her Fiancè. She wants him to make sure he also wants to adopt Sprinkles. Normally, we have one meeting, they adopt the cat, they go. This will be meeting number two of at least three meetings before Sprinkles goes home. They also asked to see Tweetie again, you know, just to help with his socializing, of course. They don't want to ADOPT HIM. Sure they don't! After all the oo-ing and ahh-ing of their last visit, I have a feeling they will change their mind.

Good thing Tweetie may already be spoken for.

:-)

Tweetie continues to amaze me. His fearful shell is crumbling away to reveal a perky, outgoing, imp. He's in full kitten mode-meaning he's all about playing and exploring. Resting is for the hours he must be on his own, part of his "tough love" quarantine.

When I enter his room, he no longer runs off. Instead, he'll lie on his cat bed, relaxed. I can hear his purr. It's deep and echoes off the hard surface of the shower walls, making it sound like it's coming from a much bigger beast.

Tweetie's curiousity has replaced fear. If I see him begin to act fearful, I redirect him with a toy. He soon forgets to be bothered by the sound of the nearby dryer spinning or by me shifting position so my legs won't fall asleep from sitting on the tile floor.

I've also started introducing new sounds to check Tweetie's startle reflex and get his used to the noises people make (ok, not ALL noises, ok only after I eat Mexican food). Apparently my singing isn't that good, as you can see in Tweetie's reaction, below.

So far the only noticeable problem is that Tweetie may not like men. Not sure this is a problem! Oops. Just kidding. Just another thing to work on, though with the quick progress Tweetie's making it won't be too much longer before I can really put him to the test to meet lots of strangers to see how he'll react.

By the way, I a heard rumor that Sockington's "people" may be requesting a visit with Tweetie! I hope they're not coming to do a DNA test to rule out paternity! After all, it just takes one look to know little Tweetie might as well be named: Sockington Jr. !

Tweetie is really growing on me now that I can pet him without worrying about being bitten. Okay, I worry, but it's not as it was before. This guy has really come out of his shell of anger and fear. I dare him to push the envelope of comfort by rubbing his face, head, back and...oooo...belly.

When I get to his belly, he lurches, then runs off, but he's never angry or rough with me. Perhaps the stimulation of being touched is too strange to him? It's as if he becomes electrified, hyper-sensitized. I'd like to ask him, but I don't they make Rosetta Stone for Cats.

Sprinkles had some company. Her adoptive Mom came to meet her. It went fairly well and I believe Sprinkles will be adopted into a nice family with two elderly dogs and an 11 month old kitty. I hear that Sprinkles name will be changed. I'm sad about that, but heck, I can always call another foster kitten Sprinkles. I could call them ALL Sprinkles, but that would annoy the crap out of our Director!

I was thinking of really BAD names for cats. Here are a few: Tampon, Rabid and Acne.

Anyway, I asked Sprinkle's Mom (who also had her 21 yr old daughter with her) if they would be willing to meet Tweetie, just to get him used to being around new people. I warned them about being bit, to move slowly and keep their voices down.

I figured the entire time Tweetie would hide or hiss, but he shocked me by allowing not just the daughter, but the Mom to pet him-all over. He rolled to the side and purred away. He had moments of nervousness, but he kept coming back to allow them to touch and play with him.

I started to realize that I made a mistake. Both Mom and daughter were cooing and ooing over Tweetie. Clearly they were smitten with this kitten! I reminded them that Tweetie would be a bad fit for their home (which was absolutely true). Their kitty, Patches, is already a fearful kitten and with Tweetie's strong personality, I think it would be a bad fit. They were very reluctant to agree with me, but did realize Sprinkles would be better for them.

At least I know that Tweetie is adoptable even as he is. This is fantastic news and I'm so very proud of him. As the days pass, I can see how anyone would love him. He really is adorable and when his motor gets going you just get sucked into his charms.

A week ago today, Tweetie bit me when I tried to pet him. Since it broke the skin and Tweetie hadn't had his rabies shot yet, I was "strongly urged" by Dr. Larry to get my arse to the ER to get post exposure Rabies treatment. I made a few calls and found out it would be covered, but the insurance company "urged" me not to go to the ER. The only place that HAS the meds IS the ER.

So I cleaned out the wound and decided to just give it some time. Tweetie had already been in our Program for more than the 10 day observation period, so odds are, he and I would both be fine.

I think this is a metaphor for Tweetie. At first, I was "urged" to consider releasing him. He'd bitten me and the Director. He was fearful, but not aggressive (whew). It was an appropriate "treatment."

As you know, we decided to give it some time and see how Tweetie did on his own. Isolation can some times push a feral kitten into yearning for physical connection so deeply that he'll seek it out from the ones he may have feared most, humans. But not every kitten will respond well and there's a tipping point at which we MUST release them if we can't coax them into being social butterflies.

Yesterday was an important clue to how things might go with Tweetie, once he was returned to living in my bathroom (still have other fosters in the "guest room" so this was what was left). I realized I was reluctant to engage with him, fearing another bite. After feeding him, I decided to just let him unwind for an hour. He'd just been returned from being neutered and getting his shots and being parted from his family and I didn't want to add to his stress.

I went up to see him again. I found him lying in a comfy cat bed in the bathtub. He was stretched out, relaxed. I called to him in a whisper as to not stress him. I kneeled down slowly and prepared to extend my hand out to pet him, keeping my fingers together (or else they think you're putting your claws out at them!)...when I heard something.

Tweetie was purring.

LOUD.

I began to pet the back of his head and he kept on purring. I petted his back and he tensed up a bit, but let me continue. I even rubbed his belly a bit, which scared him and he jumped up and ran to the cat condo near the tub. With me sitting, he could, in a sense tower over me. I felt this was better for him, too. He relaxed. I petted him a bit more, then he had enough and ran to rake his claws onto the cardboard scratchy thing.

We had a nice play time. I got him some new toys which he enjoyed.

Then he did something that broke my heart.

He dove onto the bathroom rug and furiously began to "make muffins" on it. His purr filled the room. He was, most likely, comforting himself and thinking about his Mama. I wanted to pick him up and hold him, but it's too soon to try that. Tweetie has shown remarkable progress in a very short time, but I need to be patient and take it slow.