We now have a new member of our family: a kitten.
My teenage daughter picked him out of a selection of kitties at the local animal services. The day we first met him, back in late February, he was sleepy and snuggled next to one of his siblings before the staff member picked him up and put him in my daughter’s arms. It was love at first cuddle.
My daughter also named him: Sherlock, after the famous detective Sherlock Holmes. She’s a huge fan of Benedict Cumberpatch, the latest British actor to play Mr. Holmes, and our little Sherlock also has an angular face and piercing blue eyes (which are slightly crossed, which tells me either his Mommy or his Daddy were Siamese). Our kitten is also extremely curious and eager to unravel the mystery in a blanket heaped on the floor, or a piece of crumpled up paper. He’s also extremely vocal (another Siamese trait), especially if I’m not serving up his lunch fast enough.
Our adoption hasn’t been without its hiccups, though. Sherlock got sick within days of arriving at our home. He stopped eating, lost weight, and he’s still recuperating from the respiratory virus which apparently affects a lot of cats who come from shelters. Our other feline, a male we adopted from the same shelter three years ago, was reluctant to accept another kitty in his domain for quite a few days. He, too, got the virus. Several times this past week, we’ve visited the vet. While they’re both still sniffling and sneezing, with luck, the worst of the virus is over for both of them—and they’re becoming best buddies, sharing dishes of food and short plays together.
Already Sherlock has made a place for himself in our home. I can’t imagine my days without his small, warm, purring body snuggled in my arms. My daughter adores him. My husband does too (I know this because he hasn’t once complained about the vet bills). I’m sure there are many adventures ahead with Sherlock—and I can’t wait.
Do you have pets? I’d love to hear about yours.