It was a Sunday evening and we had gone for a stroll to dispel the fog that hung thickly inside our heads as a result of a long afternoon nap.
The weather was perfect...a cool breeze was blowing scattering the leaves around and we were in a mellow mood. What had started out as a short stroll turned into long walk, we were both reluctant to go back home and sit indoors again. The wind changed and became a bit harsher and lightning started flickering ... we took a call and decided to head to a tiny new eatery to finish off an early dinner. As we were eating the rain started in earnest. It was quite a downpour and we sat indoors (in the restaurant) ruing the fact that we did not have a bike or an umbrella. As the rain softened to a drizzle we ventured out and took the known paths homewards.
Near my apartment is a grocery store and the owner has a pet tabby who had recently given birth. Noting my enthusiasm in petting her he had, a fortnight ago, suggested I take home a baby kitten. That evening he spotted us walking back and called me to take home the kitten. It was done in two minutes flat. He handed over the baby to me and I calmly put it on my shoulder and started walking homewards. It was a foregone conclusion that it was to be ours.
I must admit at this point that I did have a couple of misgivings including the fact that I had not really taken my flat-mate's permission but knowing that she was a cat-lover I decided to wing it. Back home I checked to ensure that the kitten was a 'he' and quickly set about converting a large wrought-iron tripod bowl-shaped stand into a nest for him. Warmed some milk for him and he promptly burnt his pretty pink nose trying to sniff it and got two rose-coloured weals on it. From then onwards Lil Mark Sloan refused to drink milk from the bowl. He played around climbing our knees and tummies like a little explorer and biting our fingers and toes in search for his mommy. But finally he was all tuckered out and lay in the crook of R's arm and fell asleep.
Not wanting to squish him in our sleep I insisted that Mark was to be put into the 'crib'. R asked me to place a tiny stuffed animal in with him for him to hold on to.
The whole night we checked on Mark periodically to ensure he was sleeping and awoke at 6 a.m.to see him awake and ready to drink some milk. The trick of pouring some milk onto the floor helped and I was quite surprised to see him lapping it up and licking his wet milky paws.
So now Mark Sloane is a member of the household and my absolute pet!
The weather was perfect...a cool breeze was blowing scattering the leaves around and we were in a mellow mood. What had started out as a short stroll turned into long walk, we were both reluctant to go back home and sit indoors again. The wind changed and became a bit harsher and lightning started flickering ... we took a call and decided to head to a tiny new eatery to finish off an early dinner. As we were eating the rain started in earnest. It was quite a downpour and we sat indoors (in the restaurant) ruing the fact that we did not have a bike or an umbrella. As the rain softened to a drizzle we ventured out and took the known paths homewards.
Near my apartment is a grocery store and the owner has a pet tabby who had recently given birth. Noting my enthusiasm in petting her he had, a fortnight ago, suggested I take home a baby kitten. That evening he spotted us walking back and called me to take home the kitten. It was done in two minutes flat. He handed over the baby to me and I calmly put it on my shoulder and started walking homewards. It was a foregone conclusion that it was to be ours.
I must admit at this point that I did have a couple of misgivings including the fact that I had not really taken my flat-mate's permission but knowing that she was a cat-lover I decided to wing it. Back home I checked to ensure that the kitten was a 'he' and quickly set about converting a large wrought-iron tripod bowl-shaped stand into a nest for him. Warmed some milk for him and he promptly burnt his pretty pink nose trying to sniff it and got two rose-coloured weals on it. From then onwards Lil Mark Sloan refused to drink milk from the bowl. He played around climbing our knees and tummies like a little explorer and biting our fingers and toes in search for his mommy. But finally he was all tuckered out and lay in the crook of R's arm and fell asleep.
Not wanting to squish him in our sleep I insisted that Mark was to be put into the 'crib'. R asked me to place a tiny stuffed animal in with him for him to hold on to.
The whole night we checked on Mark periodically to ensure he was sleeping and awoke at 6 a.m.to see him awake and ready to drink some milk. The trick of pouring some milk onto the floor helped and I was quite surprised to see him lapping it up and licking his wet milky paws.
So now Mark Sloane is a member of the household and my absolute pet!
