8/31/09 Say No to Mojo

Everybody have a good weekend? Partied hardy and all that?

Well, you'll be glad to know that the House of Quirk threw down like only we know how to do. Namely, we took the kittens to get their rabies shots.

You might think that after Dixon's excellent vet adventures, I might need a little time to rest and recuperate before tackling the kitty carriers again, and you would normally be right, but it just so happened that the Humane Society was offering their special deals on shots and microchipping and whatnot this weekend, and who am I to say no to $12 rabies vaccinations?

So Sebastian and Magellan were loaded into their respective carriers, and off we went. (The other boys had already had their shots for the year. We stagger the schedule for easier transport). Luckily, the kittens do not seem to have quite the same reaction to traveling that Dixon has...mostly their conversations were along the lines of "Are we there yet? I'm bored! Hey, how much longer? This carrier has nothing to do in it! Reeeeeeeally bored back here!". Anyway, the whole trip ended up being very quick and efficient, and I probably wouldn't even bother telling you about it except for one little thing.

There was a kitten.

I'm sure that it was absolutely no coincidence that they had the cat owners waiting in a room full of other adorable little kitties who needed to be adopted. (Sneaky, sneaky humane society!) And while I enjoy fluffy little puffballs who need good homes just as much as anyone, I probably would have been fine if it hadn't been for one beautiful beautiful little Siamese kitten in the corner. (And you know how we are about Siamese...We're not just fans; we're collectors). And I talked to her, and I stuck my fingers through the bars at her, and I told her just how lovely she would be as the newest member of my brood. And then, I turned to Tony and said, "Don't you just want to take her home?"

Here's the thing about pet families. Usually, you have one person who wants to adopt and feed and love on every animal in the world. No cat left behind and all that. Then you have the other person whose job it is to be rational and logical and say things like, "Yes, she is a pretty kitten, but we already have a house full of cats, and five indoor cats are just too many. I'm sure she'll find a good home with someone else." This keeps things balanced on the fine line between no pets and "your house smells like a zoo". And so, being confident that Tony would play the part of the rational person, I said, "5 cats wouldn't be too much, would it? We could take her home".

To which Tony said, "Sure".

And I said, "Awww, but she's so-wait. What?!"

And he said, "Another cat wouldn't make too much of a difference. Let's get her".

And that was when I realized that I had made a serious tactical error. Because while I was allowing myself to be seduced by little kitten feet and little kitten ears and little kitten tail, I forgot that Tony is the world's most bleeding-heart animal lover ever, and I am supposed to be the rational one. If Tony had his way, we'd have our own version of Noah's Ark, with multiples of every animal in existence walking around. And I know this! I know this, I know this, I know this! The man was a zoo keeper after all! He majored in animal science in college! He repeatedly tries to convince me that what the backyard really needs is some sheep and goats and bunny rabbits. (No, no, no!) So why I expected him to tell me that we didn't need another animal is beyond me.

Luckily for us, the kitten wasn't available for adoption. It seems she had a rough start to life, and was working through some "emotional issues" (read: the cat is psycho!). The humane society, in all good conscience, couldn't let us take her home to a multi-cat family. I sighed in relief. Yes, yes, we understand, that's too bad, oh well, gotta go! And then we ran for the car before we could find another cat who needed rescuing.

Here's the thing though. Kitten cuteness is some serious mojo, and if it can find the teeniest opening, it will get in and infect your brain. Tony is more than willing to surrender to kitten mania. And I, gatekeeper to pet household, had just accidentally shown a chink in my armor. As soon as Tony got home, he was scouring the websites of shelters and adoption agencies, hunting for a new Siamese needing a good home. I'm still maintaining that we have plenty of Siamese as it is, but we both know my resolve is weakening. I deny it, but the kitten mojo has me in its grasp. If he finds one, I won't say no.

My only hope is that every Siamese kitten in the tri-state area will suddenly find itself adopted before Tony can get to it.

Damn that kitten mojo.