Since losing my cat Bigboy in December, I have been fostering some kittens while deciding about my next permanent companion. First I had two kittens for 10 days before returning them so I could take a trip. When I got back, I took four kittens home. They were 6 weeks old and needed medicine twice a day--no problem.
When they were healthy and weighed at least 2 lbs each, they were ready to have their spay/neuter surgery and be put up for adoption. I had become very attached to three of the four and I nearly panicked and asked if I could take the two little girls back home for a while.
After two more weeks I knew I had to keep them. They are littermates and inseparable. When I took them back for their overnight trip to be spayed, I asked if another cat needed to be fostered overnight. The shelter workers laughed but humored me. One of "my" four had come back for medicine, so I took him home for his 10 days of treatment. He was so happy to be back with the two girls and the three romped and chased and tumbled as if just to please me. Any time I sat in the big recliner, they joined me and usually were asleep before I was.
I decided I needed to treat myself to a Valentine's Day present, so I took him in for his surgery and officially adopted him.
Kitten names: the shelter had named the two girls Ramona and Alice. I thought "Ramona" old-fashioned, but she is sort of homely and her head needs to grow to accommodate her big eyes, so she'll keep her name (or Rah-Rah as daughter Linda calls her, which is fine because she gave me a certificate for her for my Christmas present).
Alice becomes Elizabeth for no good reason--just couldn't remember Alice.
The little boy was Alamo, and since I'm from Texas he could remain Alamo, but I've begun to call him Tar Baby. He plans to be the Boss Cat, which can be observed in this photo.
They have already begun to "help out" with my quilting by attacking bits of fabric that fall to the floor, batting empty thread spools about, dragging pieces of ribbon--favorite is a quarter-inch velvet piece. But the best toys are the little plastic rings off the top of milk bottles and the pink or blue plastic collars I cut off them. They are in their forever home at three months of age. Sorry about failing as a foster mom, but I'm sure I'm not the first!