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Thursday, December 8, 2011

My Tiny’s growing up

I can’t believe my little tiny kitten that I brought home just three short months ago has grown so big so quickly. I know she has a lot more growing to do, but holy cow – she’s growing like a weed.
She was so itty-bitty when we brought her home; of course she was just 6 weeks old. Now she’s beating up Calvin, though she is still terrified of Achilles.
3 months ago:

We had a scary moment when got back from Galveston and found that the guy we had taking care of the cats had left the window open. In his defense, in the past that was what he was instructed to do as Calvin will lay in wait for you to open the door and then dash out. So I had told him to just crack the window so Calvin could get back in. But this time I left instructions to make sure that the window was not opened since we have Tiny (yes, her name is Sarabi, but we all call her “Tiny”) and she CANNOT got out. As soon as we pulled in the drive my eyes spotted the open window and my heart leapt out of my chest. Corey couldn’t find his house keys (kid you not) so I literally crawled through the window.
Calvin immediately came bounding up to me, but Tiny was nowhere to be found. We searched and searched. We talked to neighbors, no one had seen her. I finally called Beau, who had taken care of the cats. He immediately said “Oh no! I forgot about not opening the window!” He admitted to opening the window the very first day we left (5 days earlier) and couldn’t really remember when he had seen Tiny last. After searching for about 45 minutes I dried my tears and figured I needed to alert “pet finders”, who Tiny was micro-chipped through. I walked back inside and decided to check one last thing: the litter box. Calvin goes outside most of the time, but of course Tiny goes in the litter box. If the litter box was used a lot then she was obviously inside most of the time, if it was empty then she probably got out when Beau first opened that window. I went to check the box and saw something move in my room, my heart leapt. I whipped around and ran back to the doorway, there was Tiny, sitting on her back legs with her front paws up in the begging position (she has sat like that since we brought her home).
She was skinny and skittish. This had obviously taken its toll on her. I didn’t even think about how this separation would affect her. Poor Tiny. I’m not sure she had eaten much (or drank that much either) since we left.
The kids were so excited to know she was okay. She was hiding in a box under our bed.
She shadowed me for days after we returned; I couldn’t even go check the mail without her sitting at the door and howling this horribly loud meow.
At night she crawls under the covers and snuggles close up and sleeps right next to me.
Now we know that we can’t just leave her at the house when we go places, she just can’t take the separation.