Tag Archives: letting go

A Kittery Tale: PeanutBuddy Finds a Furever Home.

The time has come for the kitteries to say goodbye to me and Momma.  Time to go into the great unknown that exists outside of my bedroom.   Time to bond and claim space in places that are not “here.”

PeanutBuddy, also referred to as “My Lil Lion” was my one solitary light colored kit in the brood.   He is strong, and sweet.  The minute the kitteries pics went up, people were most interested in him.  I went with my first friend showing interests with an intent to re-home them with people I know, or people who have been vetted by people I know.

This week I have really felt the need to cull the herd; Momma is getting irritated and they are growing at a rapid pace which makes a small room feel even smaller.  PeanutBuddy was the strongest and biggest and was making daily efforts to test his strength, endurance and agility on his poor tired Mommacat. Her irritation was palatable as she would attempt to shake him off or subdue him long enough to jump to unreachable heights.

At night, I wrangle the kits into an upside down laundry basket so that I can spend a night without being ambushed or having random objects drop from shelves.  This morning I noticed they had grown big enough to require more than one laundry basket, so it’s probably a good thing they like a nice cuddle puddle.

Last night I met with my friend and her mother, to come meet the kit and sent them  home with a pillow made of my decimated bed spread; fully engulfed in the clan scent.  I wanted to make sure their current cat was cool with it, and I want something familiar for him to go to in his new home.  Their current kitty slept the night on the pillow, and will hopefully share and accept Peanut once she recognizes Peanuts smell in there.

Before they came over I debriefed the kitteries about our visitors and their intentions and our future together.  I told them all that the people were specifically interested in PB.  Once my friend and her mother arrived the kits dynamic changed.  PB who is usually quite gregarious, hung back and acted skitterish.  Everyone else stepped to the forefront, which is rare for a couple of them.  They actively engaged in play while PB hid under the dresser, unsure of his future.  Toward the end of the hang out he emerged and gave socialization a go, his little heart pitter pattering with nerves.

After our guests left, I told them it wasn’t certain, but it was likely that PB would be going away tomorrow. I explained that it wasn’t my lack of love, it was simply not economical or fair, they need their space.  We all need our space and deserve it.  Lots of love was given, but I could feel another shift in the dynamic.  I would liken it to rebellion.

This morning, ( the day after) I was given confirmation that PeanutBuddy had a new home and that he would be leaving this afternoon. As soon as I told everyone what was up the rebellion kicked off.   Bites were harder, jumps were more pronounced and effective.  (While bending over in nothing but underwear one of them jumped straight on to my  ass in the most brutal of ways…. yeah, I jumped and yelped.)

Each time I would walk into my room the energy was different, usually everyone is cuddled in a mass but today, everyone was close together with PB sitting alone at the end of my dogs bedding. It felt like contemplation and the energy of his siblings was resentful.  They knew they were losing their leader.   Perhaps I am anthropomorphizing them, or perhaps spending almost thirteen weeks straight with these little critters from day one, means I am experiencing a very real dynamic that I have limited understanding and wording for, but this is what I can liken it to.

11:30 am rolled around and it would be soon that separation would occur.  I wanted us all to share one last cat nap together.  I forgot my phone, so I asked the cats to make sure I got up by 12:30.  At first it was a struggle, everyone was blaming me with what energy they had left and PB was the last to settle down but when he did, he cuddled under my chin on my neck and fell fast asleep while the rest of his crew laid in a puddle on my abdomen.  Momma laid down on the dresser, overlooking our pile of fur and humanity and we rested for an hour and I had to get up.

It was like curtain call in the theatre.  “Okay cats (cast), life will change very soon.  Make your peace and say your good-byes. We love you PeanutBuddy!”

A short while later I asked my grandma if she would like to say goodbye, and she said yes.  I brought him into the room and she became emotional.

“It feels like I am losing a friend.” She said.  I couldn’t help but agree, once upon a few months ago they were helpless little fur balls with an uncertain future… now they could probably instinctively kill a rodent and be surprised by the outcome… how far we can move so quickly.

Everyone said goodbye, even the dogs.  And I slipped that little tan critter in to a critter carrier; it was hard.  I am not a cat person, I am an animal person.   Sometimes I hate love, ya know… you always have to say goodbye and it’s rarely a relief.   My emotions are wrapped up in the fact that I saw life happen in front of my eyes.  I saw growth and development based on my influence.  I hope they all are just the best for their new homes but that doesn’t stop the emotion I am feeling.  I am not quite sure what to liken it to as a person who has never had children.    I guess I get the same feeling when I think about my dog, or any dog I have ever loved or has been loved by people I love, and that dog passing away.  I’m deeply saddened by the idea of the feeling of abandonment.

I want that kittery to know I didn’t “abandon him,” even though it feels like I did.  Will he care once he is integrated and spoiled in his new home… probably not, but I don’t know for sure and that is why they call it anthropomorphism.  We put human attributes on animals, I don’t know if they felinopomorph, and think any one human is more or less cat-tributed behavior or personality.   I know my relationship with Quantum is significantly different now than it was when she came to me in November, and we have yet to see how that will pan out  once she regains her space and freedom.  (This bitch needs a snip-snip if you know what I mean, before she can explore the outdoors again.)

I just take it day to day, ya know?  Really it’s all I can do.

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