Idgie is the little brown tabby in the middle. She's two months old and we adopted her from Lollypop Farm, the local animal shelter. Lollypop Farm is phenomenal -- it's a "no kill" facility that brings in people from all around the area, as well as out-of-state. I visited it twice last week and both times it was chock full of people. Check out the site, as it has wonderful information on pets and their care and training.
The adoption fee was $110 but included in that price is the worming, spaying, FELV testing, first series of shots, microchip implantation (for identifying the animal), a free month of pet health insurance, and a free month's worth of food. It's a great value!
Anyway, Idgie is a little piss-and-vinegar munchkin who is a tad skiddish but every bit a kitten. Yes, she looks similar to our beloved Tigga, but we chose the tabby because they are typically known for their sweet dispositions.
I suppose that, if you're a kitten, having an adult human stand next to you seems quite scary and when that happens, she tends to bolt. But, if we get down on our knees or sit on the floor, she comes to us and nuzzles and lets us love on her. The first night we couldn't really get anywhere near her -- she wanted nothing to do with us and spent the night under the nightstand in our bedroom. But since then, she's been exploring every inch of the house.
Cedar, as expected, wants nothing to do with her. Or us, for that matter. But like she did with Tigga, she'll eventually just ignore Idgie and they'll steer clear of each other.
Simba, on the other hand, has been wonderful with the little munchkin. Now, keep in mind that he's HUGE -- not just weight-wise, but in every aspect. His paws are huge (and they say that's an indicator of the size of the animal's frame), and he weighs 18½ lbs. We think there may be a bit of Maine Coon in him because of the way his fur is. So just believe me when I say he's HUGE.
At first he and the kitten sniffed at each other and while she arched her back a bit, he was somewhat inquisitive, but not overly so. He did, however, lay next to her hiding spot all night long that first night, as if to stand guard over her. We've had her for five days now and the two of them ram throughout the house, playing. He chases her downstairs, and she chases him back up the stairs. He thumps her pretty good on the head when she hides and pretends she's a "whack-a-mole" but his claws stay retracted. He's a good big brother.
Idgie has brought a lot of laughter and smiles back into our home. Lisa and I both tend to have moments when we get teary-eyed at the thought of the loss of Tigga, but little Idgie has taken some of the sting away. I told Lisa that maybe Tigga had to leave so that we could rescue this little one.
We have a new nightly routine now -- we go outside after dark and look for Tigga's star. We found this quote on the web, and took great comfort from it.
"Perhaps they are not stars in the sky but rather openings where our loved ones shine down to let us know they are happy."
And, if that's the case, Tigga's happy and has lots of friends.