When I learned my building was allowing you to have a pet, I began my search for a kitten. But it seemed there was no kittens available. On a lark when I returned from my vacation from Springfield, Mass, I did an internet search and found a black kitten. I clicked the link and learned his name was Uhuru Jack. That "What the hell are you taking my picture for" look on this little kitten's face should have warned me he was going to be trouble. His description about being bold and adventurous and if you don't pay enough attention to him, he'll climb up your leg in a Glenn Close "I won't be ignored, Dan" type of behavior were other warning signs. Even the lady who ran the rescue seemed to think I'd change my mind about him, and even told me he'd calm down, eventually.
Black Cats Everywhere
I had some serious reservations, myself, worrying if he would be all right being left alone for eight and a half hours a day when he was such a little thing. That was one of the reasons I thought such a bold and adventurous cat could handle it. But everywhere I went I started seeing black cats everywhere, as if someone was giving me a sign I was supposed to get this little guy. I bought some used books and there was a book marker inside one of the books with a black cat on it. I was out taking a driving lesson and I saw a black cat walking. And earlier this summer this black cat I'd met while out visiting someone had taken an instant liking to me, to the point he/she let me cradle it in my arms and it looked like a twin to little Jack's mother. So despite all my qualms I went ahead and got him.
I wanted to get him when I'd have two days off to spend with him before I had to leave him alone. Unfortunately, as things worked out, I got him when I would have to go to work the next morning and leave him alone. I now know how a new mother feels leaving her baby alone for the first time. I swear I could actually hear that kitten crying forlornly because he was left all alone the next day at work. I felt like a monster for leaving him all alone.
Bringing Home Baby Jack
I just couldn't call this cute ball of fluff Uhuru, it kept making me think of Lt. Uhura on Star Trek, so I shortened his name to Jack, and I've made sure I've never mentioned the U word, again, so he could get used to the name Jack. The first time I fed him I wanted to see if he'd come to the U word and when I used it, he did, so I've made sure to call him Jack, and it's truly a name that suits the little bugger.
When I went to get him, I can't say I was too impressed by where he was being kept. It was a barn in a cage. He'd just been given a bob-job, as I call it. He was neutered, and I wasn't too thrilled about them doing that to a nine week old kitten, but they want to make sure the cat population is controlled. Jack's sisters were all huddled together looking too weak to move, while Jack was up and about, like he'd been waiting for me to come and get him. They gave me a tiny box to put him in, and keeping him in it was quite a task on the drive home. He kept pushing his head up wanting to see where he was going. He was also purring on the ride home, which I hoped was a good sign.
When I got him home to my apartment I showed him his food and his litter box, but he started meowing for his mommy. That's another thing I felt guilty about. It's kind of horrible how we take a cat's children from her. It makes me wonder how we'd feel if we had a baby and someone took it away from us and gave it away to someone you didn't know. It's one of those times it's not good that I can put myself in other people's places and try to see it from their point of view.
I quickly found out that Jack was a very vocal kitty. He made yum-yum noises when he ate, he made different noises when he pooped or when I left a room and he couldn't find me. He quickly seemed to adapt to the loss of his mother, as he jumped into my arms and promptly fell asleep. I'd gotten Jack a bed to sleep in and I tried to put him in it, but he was having none of it. He spent his first night with me sleeping in my bed on my other pillow staring at me every time I woke up.
Black Cats Everywhere
I had some serious reservations, myself, worrying if he would be all right being left alone for eight and a half hours a day when he was such a little thing. That was one of the reasons I thought such a bold and adventurous cat could handle it. But everywhere I went I started seeing black cats everywhere, as if someone was giving me a sign I was supposed to get this little guy. I bought some used books and there was a book marker inside one of the books with a black cat on it. I was out taking a driving lesson and I saw a black cat walking. And earlier this summer this black cat I'd met while out visiting someone had taken an instant liking to me, to the point he/she let me cradle it in my arms and it looked like a twin to little Jack's mother. So despite all my qualms I went ahead and got him.
I wanted to get him when I'd have two days off to spend with him before I had to leave him alone. Unfortunately, as things worked out, I got him when I would have to go to work the next morning and leave him alone. I now know how a new mother feels leaving her baby alone for the first time. I swear I could actually hear that kitten crying forlornly because he was left all alone the next day at work. I felt like a monster for leaving him all alone.
Bringing Home Baby Jack
I just couldn't call this cute ball of fluff Uhuru, it kept making me think of Lt. Uhura on Star Trek, so I shortened his name to Jack, and I've made sure I've never mentioned the U word, again, so he could get used to the name Jack. The first time I fed him I wanted to see if he'd come to the U word and when I used it, he did, so I've made sure to call him Jack, and it's truly a name that suits the little bugger.
When I went to get him, I can't say I was too impressed by where he was being kept. It was a barn in a cage. He'd just been given a bob-job, as I call it. He was neutered, and I wasn't too thrilled about them doing that to a nine week old kitten, but they want to make sure the cat population is controlled. Jack's sisters were all huddled together looking too weak to move, while Jack was up and about, like he'd been waiting for me to come and get him. They gave me a tiny box to put him in, and keeping him in it was quite a task on the drive home. He kept pushing his head up wanting to see where he was going. He was also purring on the ride home, which I hoped was a good sign.
When I got him home to my apartment I showed him his food and his litter box, but he started meowing for his mommy. That's another thing I felt guilty about. It's kind of horrible how we take a cat's children from her. It makes me wonder how we'd feel if we had a baby and someone took it away from us and gave it away to someone you didn't know. It's one of those times it's not good that I can put myself in other people's places and try to see it from their point of view.
I quickly found out that Jack was a very vocal kitty. He made yum-yum noises when he ate, he made different noises when he pooped or when I left a room and he couldn't find me. He quickly seemed to adapt to the loss of his mother, as he jumped into my arms and promptly fell asleep. I'd gotten Jack a bed to sleep in and I tried to put him in it, but he was having none of it. He spent his first night with me sleeping in my bed on my other pillow staring at me every time I woke up.
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