WHAT HAPPENS WHEN SOCKING AND TWEETIE FINALLY MEET?!!

Tweetie was a marvelous passenger. Although he seemed a bit limp and sad, perhaps it was his reaction to the stress of highway sounds? Maybe it was just being a kitten and needing a nap? He settled down quickly. I offered him some toys to play with, but he wasn't interested. I didn't push it with him, instead just offered to pet him, which he seemed to give him some comfort. I could feel him purring through my fingers.

Within a short time, Tweetie was fast asleep on my hand. I didn't move it, figuring I have a spare hand, so if this one falls off due to inadequate blood flow, then heck, I'm mostly right handed, so no big deal. Somehow I managed to send out a few Tweets and the above two photos to everyone to let them know we were making progress and would be reaching Socks Army HQ soon. We didn't hit much traffic and the threatening looking weather moved on, only releasing a modest shower, instead of a torrent. We pulled into the driveway of...hey! I'm NOT telling you the TOP SECRET LOCATION OF SOCKS ARMY HQ! Are you kidding me?! I had to sign a blood oath never to divulge this secret!...

...and low and behold, who should walk out to welcome us, but Food Lady, herself! (no photos, please!)

As I got out of the car, I got slapped by hot, humid air. It was nasty! Socks Army HQ has so many different operations that only certain sectors of the HQ are chilled. When we entered HQ and were escorted to Tweetie's new temporary quarters, I realized Tweetie was going to be very warm, indeed. I started to worry. His quarters were small and sequestered from the lavish surroundings that Socks and Penny enjoy. I kept reminding myself that this was "just for a few days" and that the weather was going to break that night (which it did, thankfully and things cooled down and dried out nicely). Food Lady had everything ready. We released Tweetie and instead of hiding or hissing, he casually walked around and was a proper gentleman and showed Food Lady he knew how to use his new litter pan!

With fresh food and water laid out before him, we decided to let him rest a bit while we sought refuge in the cool chambers of the HQ's main conference room. I was trying to be polite and not demand to know where Sockington and Penny were. We met with, well he's called Fatty, but I would rather call him, Mr. Scott, so we met with Mr. Scott who told us to prepare for the meeting. That we should not expect a warm greeting, but if Sockington did honor us with his presence that we should be delighted-well of course!

He called Sockington on a Top Secret wireless device. Within a moment I heard paws landing on stair steps. I turned from my seat on the floor (my choice) and there he was...Socks!

What an elegant, sleek, regal beast! Socks came right over to me sniffed my hand. I was told he wouldn't let me pet him, but he did! He even gave my hand a few welcoming licks. I still haven't washed it! Maybe I can get the DNA from it and clone a new Socks? Mwwwaahahahaha!

So anyway, Socks is fantastic. He's quite tall and his tail is impressively long, featuring a "tail light" (white tip) as I call it. He was also very friendly with Sam, but I'm not sure if it was because he liked Sam or that Sam's hands smelled like the grilled chicken sandwich he ate in the car on the drive up?

Maybe Socks was just being polite?

He certainly seemed calm and relaxed in front of the camera. You can tell he knows he's famous! He posed carefully for me, making sure he gave me his good side forward (with Socks, though, all sides are good!). I couldn't get over how much Socks looked like Tweetie. I mean, Tweetie looked like Mr. Sockington, excuse me!

I did my best to be witty and entertaining, but in truth, I think I bored Socks. Though he tried to stay with the conversation, it was just too beneath his standards.

Eventually, he decided he'd had enough and wanted to have a wee nap.

But what about meeting Tweetie??! Should we do the introductions? I'd finally gotten Tweetie within a football field (Hey, Socks Army HQ is big!) of Sockington, but I KNOW introductions have to be done properly, or you open a whole world of hurt on yourself!

Suddenly Penny entered the room and it was clear, as sweet and lovely as she is in person, she was also in NO MOOD to meet no stinkin' kitten!

I gulped hard. What had I done?! Was this just a foolish, selfish, idiotic move on my part? Clearly Penny was not happy. Socks didn't know what was waiting for him in the next room. Maybe I should just take Tweetie home with me and forget this ever happened! At least I got to meet The Most Famous Cat on the Internet and geez, everyone is going to be so jealous of me! Woohoo! Take that rich, creepy, materialistic, selfish, evil, elephant-eared family members, who shall remain nameless, but know who they are! Nyah!

What am I gonna do? What will become of Tweetie???

'til next time, World. 'til next time...

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.

There's been some BIG, LIFE-CHANGING NEWS for Tweetie over the last 24 hours. Some of it I can divulge and some must stay "mum" for now. I've got lots of photos and memories to share. Please stay tuned. I'll have something up for you to read later today!

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)!

I'm going to try to write while sipping iced tea and nibbling at a chocolate muffin. I know I shouldn't eat it, but heck, some times a girl's gotta eat what a girl's gotta eat. Plus, my pants feel loose. Okay, maybe my stomach popped over the top of my pants so they feel looser, but who can see me right now?

I'm trying to keep muffin bits off the keyboard. Good thing it's one of those uber flat ones from Apple. Less crap can sneak under the keys. Have you ever looked or dusted or CLEANED your keyboard? I got rid of my last keyboard because I swear I heard growling coming from under the "T" key.

For all those concerned, and there were a few, thankyouverymuch!, my finger is not infected and I didn't have to visit the ER. There's one spot near my knuckle that's quite sore, but nothing disgusting is oozing out of it. It should heal in time. I even found a bandage. Good old Sponge Bob Square Pants! I thought I had ones that looked like bacon strips, but I couldn't find them.

Oh! Tweetie. Yes, Tweetie.

Tweetie is insane, but to be fair so are Sprinkles and Pixie. Twinkles, is too mellow to be crazy.

There's an energy that forms when kittens hit about seven weeks old. It grows to explosive proportions that radiates from their tiny little bodies from eight to ten weeks and beyond. They can climb well, run endlessly, jump high, mixed with an insatiable curiousity for everything around them. These changes indicate the time is coming for the kittens to leave!

They start to GET ON MY NERVES!!!!

All these kittens do is RUN RUN RUN, fight, climb up the side of the dog crate...which gives them access to the top of the cable box (nearby), a shelf full of books, and a ton of crap I put high up to keep it away from their destructive paws. Then they...OOPS...knock stuff to the floor, hurt themselves, run so hard they start panting and Tweetie even started foaming at the mouth-which scared the shit out of me.

I ended up putting Tweetie back in his room, alone, to force him to just REST. He was fine in a few minutes, but I was shaken. I tried to just hang out with the Sprinkles and her gang, but they too were too busy poking around, ripping at things, treating me like a scratching post and fighting with each other. They would not sit still even after a good hour of hard playtime-an hour that I witnessed. Who knows how long they were running around BEFORE I was in the room!

It was getting late. Their crazy antics made me feel stressed out. It's weird. Their energy flows so strongly, you can't help but be effected by it. It was like coffeeless surge of caffeine. I had to leave the room and just stare at a TV show for an hour before I felt my pulse slow down. I was ready for bed.

I finally got a decent night sleep thanks to the new pillow I got at Bed, Bath & Banal. I have a "thing" about pillows. I constantly have a problem finding one that supports my gigantically fat head. They're either way too hard, then my neck aches, or they're so mooshy I have to shove my arm under my pillow to give me the support I need. I even blew $150!!!!! on a Tempurpedic pillow. I used it a few nights and it was ok, but then one night I woke up in the middle of the night. I literally could not sit up. All the muscles in my neck were LOCKED. I started screaming and hyperventilating. Poor Sam woke up, did not pee in his pants or the bed, thankfully, and after a few fuzzy minutes of me screaming and writhing, he got the idea to pull me up, then started to dig his iron fingers into my neck to loosen up the muscles, while I began to cry, of course.

Yeah, so I have a thing about good pillows.

So, I'm rested and somewhat refreshed. Ready to face a new day full of insane kitten behavior. Next Wednesday all but Tweetie are getting spayed and their final shots and tests ('cause Tweetie was already vetted). Then Thursday/Friday they'll be going to their new homes and I'll get the house back to myself and my seven bratty cats.

There's a new found appreciation for my own cats, I must admit. Yesterday I jiggled a few toys at them and they just laid there and looked at me. Not one of the cats would actually get up off their big ass to even bat at the toy! I whipped the feather toy past their heads, taunted them, was provocative in my every move and nothing. They just looked at me. Their expressions asking; "Are you quite through now? I'd like to go back to bed OR You could pet me OR you certainly could FEED ME. Other than that, would you mind going away?"

I love kittens. Really, I do, but there's nothing like an old, slow moving, bored cat that really makes my day.

And, by the way, that was a pretty good muffin, too.

This chapter is a difficult one to write both physically and emotionally. Last night I wrestled with whether or not I should leave out what happened and just keep this as a positive, uplifting story, but that's not how life goes some times.

The truth is, socializing feral kittens can be difficult, frustrating and painful. It's part of the process. Some times all the work is for naught. Some times we have to accept the results we get, knowing we did our best. Some times things go beautifully and without a hitch and it's just another notch on our belt of success.

Yesterday, though Tweetie was mellow and friendly, the three kittens I introduced him to, didn't care for him one bit. Poor Tweetie wanted to fit in and play, but they just hissed and arched their tiny backs. Eventually, Tweetie hissed back and ran off to hide in his carrier. I got them all to play together and eat in close proximity, but clearly the kittens were all stressed.

Tweetie putting up with hisses from Sprinkles

Pixie, is not thrilled, while Tweetie looks to make friends elsewhere.

At 6pm Sprinkles' adoptive family come to see her again. Since they also wanted to see Tweetie, I left him in the room, instead of moving him to his private quarters.

Still hoping to make friends. Tweetie tries his luck with Twinkles.

Friend or Foe? Who's that knocking upon my door?

It was clear, fairly quickly, that all the kittens were stressed during the visit. Because it was important that Sprinkles show well, I realized I needed to move Tweetie to his room. Tweetie was upset. I reached to scruff him and he went down right away. A good, submissive move.

Because I was distracted by the visitors, I missed scruffing Tweetie properly and grabbed his shoulder. He flipped out and bit me. Instead of moving my hand, which I SHOULD HAVE DONE, I tried to adjust my grip, but it was too late. Tweetie's teeth sunk deeply into my index finger-the same one he bit a week ago.

Instead of screaming, I calmly let him go, stood up and told him to "go to your carrier." As I walked behind him, he ran into his carrier. I shut the door, preparing to return him to his room. My finger was throbbing painfully and starting to gush blood. Sprinkles' family thought I had magic powers over cats, by getting Tweetie to obey me so quickly, but I just knew he'd run to the first, small, dark place he could find.

I summoned up the courage to be calm and excused myself from the room, bringing Tweetie with me. I put him back in his room and quietly left him to calm down while I took care of my wounds.

I have five bite marks on my finger. It hurts like Hell. I furiously cleaned my finger, fearing infection. I've been down this road before with my very own formerly feral cat, Cricket. He sent me to the hospital once when he didn't want to go to the Vet. He sunk his teeth into my hand. It swelled up like a balloon, even though I cleaned it out. I got a few shots, one in the ass, for my troubles. I wasn't sure this wound was that serious. I sure hoped it wasn't.

The family finally left and I basically fell apart. I haven't slept well for a long while and I was very upset, thinking about Tweetie. He'd made all this great progress. Would his chances of being adopted end because he bit me? Would anyone see past that and feel safe around him?

I know it was MY FAULT that Tweetie bit me. He told me, most clearly, that he was upset and I did not heed his warning signs, so the warnings became more explosive. I never should have touched a cat in the "red zone." I should have re-directed him with a toy and got him into his carrier. My fear was how would he behave now that we've had this "incident?"

I went to bed at 10pm after getting everyone fed. Normally I'm up much later, but my body was aching. I laid in bed and couldn't get comfortable. I tossed and turned, worrying about Tweetie. In my heart, even though he hurt me, I know he didn't mean it.

I got up an hour later and made some chamomile tea. It tastes like ass (actually, I never tasted an ass, so this is just a guess). I brought it into Tweetie's room, not knowing what his state of mind would be.

He was sitting on the cat condo, so I sat on the floor next to it. I didn't reach out to give him a pet, I just looked over at him. He looked at me and burbled, then cocked his head, curious as to why I wasn't petting him. He jumped off the condo and nervously ran past me. He sat on the floor and looked at me as I sipped my tea.

He got up and jumped onto my leg. As I lifted the teacup to my lips, he head-butted my elbow and burbled another greeting. I touched his back and he melted into my lap, looking up at me as if nothing tragic had happened and that everything, as far as he was concerned was just fine...and oh, could I pet him some more so he could purr louder??

So this, my friends, is part of my difficult journey with a cat who has literally gotten under my skin in so many ways. He's a good egg, I promise. I take all the blame for what happened. I'm not sure what this means for him or if it's just another bump in the road? I just hope beyond hope's limits that I can find Tweetie the loving home he so deserves and a band-aid for my finger. I seem to be out.

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.

:-)