We are not cat people.
I needed to fill you in on that tiny detail before you read or look any further.
My husband LOVES his motorcycle. I mean LOVES it as in it’s his favorite thing in this world. The weather was borderline okay for getting the bike out on Sunday (read: it was okay of you were sporting a scarf with a down filled jacket and gloves…let’s be honest, it was more than a little brisk). I love to go on the bike with him because he loves it so much. For me, to experience his joy of the bike with him, is worth hunching over and cramming my double-wide rump onto a seat that is way too small for a woman of my proportions. Lets just say my bottom pretty much swallows up the seat and leave you with that sweet little visual.
Back to the cuteness. When we returned from a Sunday afternoon ride, we spotted this.
She was shivering and terrified.
Don’t let this face fool you. She hissed, growled and swatted with ferocity and speed. If she were the size of a lion, she’d have been gingerly licking her chops after having us as an afternoon snack.
We spotted yet another one hiding under some bushes about a yard or so behind the other two. All three of them were shaking uncontrollably despite the sixty-something degree weather we were enjoying. I was content to go get my camera and see if I could get some cute kitten shots. My husband (who can’t stand cats, mind you) had other ideas. Still sporting his bad-ass bandanna, boots and a leather jacket from our bike ride, he disappeared into the house. He returned with a blanket-lined rubber bin wearing work gloves. He hopped the fence and grabbed the kittens one by one by the scruff of their necks. The entire time the ferocious one was growling and swatting. I can’t believe he didn’t lose a limb.
The entire time he spoke to them gently. After we got into the house he began petting them while still contained in the bin. Within the span of about 10 minutes or so, one by one, they became “daddy’s babies.” (That’s how I referred to them, anyway). He could pick them up and love on them and they trusted him. The ferocious one didn’t take her eyes off of him, but even she allowed him to hold and nuzzle her. It was just about the cutest thing I have ever seen.
Eventually, he warmed some milk and they lapped it up instantly. He was able to get in touch with an ORCA volunteer and dropped them off at their office. We were ensured that would be taken care of and taken to the Humane League in the morning.
The next day, he said to me, “I miss them.” I replied, “Really? I had a dream that they were pissing all over me and everything else.” Just keepin’ it real.
I must say, sometimes, when I least suspect it, after thirteen years together, he really surprises me in a most amazing way.