Kitten Mania - Here I Am!

Little over two months since my heart was broken as traumatically as a snowman-themed snowglobe by the saddening death of the last of my two beloved cats, Jerry, I'm now able to smile with grace and experience the thrilling sensation of my soul being brought back to life by none other than two pretty handsome (though their appearance, by a quick glance, does give the impression of looking very feminine) male tabby-and-white kittens called Bart and Benny.

For a while, I've narrowly avoided the once-tedious subject of white-pawed kittens as the previous news regarding the pair who had not yet been given the all-clear to come home made me go through more heartbreak than I ever believed was possible during the soul-destroying stages of grief and acceptance. Alas, quite a lot of events have taken place since I last wrote here about my joys and sadness associated with the two kittens, whose pictures that I'd taken in a confused blur on a smartphone camera were adorned on a wall and captivated all of my attention whenever I switched my phone to a cute screensaver every so often. These kittens seemed utterly perfect, in both appearance (OK, a girl like myself should not use vanity when it comes down to looks, particularly if they are specially good ones) and personality, their endless tales of playfulness being described and a warm feeling tugging at my heartstrings, which, at the time, had nothing positive to hold onto as I walked my first steps through understanding my loss and, in effect, recovering from the blow which had forcibly threatened to knock me off my feet - how could I resist the alluring idea of bringing two fun-loving kittens home just weeks after saying an eternal goodbye to one of the greatest cats to have ever existed on Earth?

Unfortunately, it eventually became crystal clear last week that these kittens - both of whom had already been referred to as Bart and Benny, therefore creating a bond between them and my family despite only visiting and spending less than thirty minutes in their presence on one occasion - didn't stand much of a chance of joining our loving family and filling the gaping hole inside my heart, which, had the circumstances been entirely different, have torn myself apart and destroyed all of my increasingly fragile hopes for a dream that didn't seem to stand a chance of coming true. As I don't wish to burden you with any details (or relive the horror which had struck a painful gut feeling inside myself, which I so wished could be ignored as though it never existed), I won't describe in my usual tell-all manner about what had happened to provoke me to steadily walk away from these kittens whom I had long doted upon, each step as quiet as a whisper, until I had broken free from the spell which had bound me to weekly bouts of disappointment which tore at me like a knife - in other words, my hopes of adopting these two 'special' kittens were all but destroyed, leading to a new search being undertaken elsewhere which shortly raised my spirits higher than I had ever given myself permission to hope.

Let's admit it, surely some of us must have gone through the motions until they discovered what their hearts instantly latched upon and restored their hopes to a level which they believed could no longer be their own? That was the way I felt as soon as my family travelled to an animal centre and met two gorgeous kittens, whose twinkling stars foretold a destiny of being taken to a home who would offer as much love and affection (and vibrant fish-shaped catnip toys!) as they could ever ask for. From the moment I stepped into the pleasantly warm centre on an ear-numbing cold late November afternoon (ah, the curse of wearing a strict ponytail during the winter; how my bare ears suffer!), my instincts reassured me that, within a time, my family would be carrying the Kermit-green basket outside the door with two kittens lying upon the towel where Jerry used to sleep on a boiling, body odour-sweating summer day, happiness instantly filling the hole, one which revealed an inner vulnerability, inside my heart that had for so long awaited a form of closure.

So, fast-forward week of listening to the surprisingly relaxing music from Minecraft and fantasizing of baking an imaginary batch of homemade mince pies, and look at where I am - kitten mania! Our two new 'kit kats' (until both of them have learnt how to curb their unstoppable appetites for more than fifteen minutes, no Kit Kat wrappers will be placed in their curiosity-eyed sight), crunchie-devouring Bart and defensive, yet motherly Benny, only brought home late yesterday evening, but have already garnered an adoring audience consisting of my family and obviously myself, who has been left utterly inspired to tell of this magnificent journey which has led to their long-awaited arrival.

Unlike spoilt-rotten Tom and soft-as-butter Jerry who were adopted from a private seller back in the late 90s, Bart and Benny come from a background which is the complete opposite to the start in life which many kittens receive. In certain ways, I'm relieved that I purposely did not make an effort to ask too many questions to which my ears would have been reluctant to hear with regard to Bart and Benny's life before they were taken to the animal centre, but here goes (albeit some bits have been excluded from this statement): at the strikingly young age of two to three weeks old, Bart and Benny were found living outside without their mother alongside their other two brothers within the four-kitten litter, which resulted in their being taken to safety and saved from a life which I could not bear to imagine for their sakes. As all of the litter had assumedly been born outside, a term known as 'semi-feral' has been used to describe them, despite the fact that they had only spent the best part of a fortnight or slightly more outdoors - these truths have only strengthened my passionate love to give Bart and Benny a life to which every single cat in the world is entitled, whilst also helping a good-natured animal centre to carry on rescuing countless animals who took such great care of our kittens before they became our own.

Due to being classified as semi-feral (the image which may initially spring to mind is not necessarily the correct one; take it from the gloriously silk and well-kept fur which Bart and Benny keep clean every day without resorting to budget-destroying moisturizers), Bart and Benny have a tendency to shy away from human contact and can hiss à la that ugly-looking snake in the Harry Potter films if they feel threatened or afraid by their surroundings. Luckily, no pink-padded paws had flown in my direction as of yet because I've managed to successfully sense when Benny, whose wild-clawed temper can rival my own during my hormone-fuelled rages, has got a bit annoyed or cannot stand to be touched, albeit very gently. Bart, on the other hand, has grown used to be stroked softly on his adorably tiny head - which hardly looks much larger than my old Bratz dolls, minus the Dynasty-inspired overload of pantomime-like make-up - within less than a day, which has undoubtedly exceeded my initial expectations and pleased me to the point of bursting with pride! My fingers have remained tightly crossed ever since that Bart will gradually encourage hot-headed Benny to enjoy the soothing company which humans bring and purr from the joys of being stroked with the lightest touch, but I'm barely in a position to complain about the huge amount of progress that I have steadily managed to make!

Compared to the circumstances which had placed a mood damper than the towel reserved for my near-daily hair washing in the air last week, I might as well be walking on air because I'm seriously incapable of landing safely on solid ground! Without a doubt, it will definitely take a while (and a few so-called promises of fresh roast pork!) to lure Bart and Benny out of their naturally shy shells, which does remind me of my slightly timid personality though not to such a greater extent. If I'm going to succeed with creating a powerful bond with two heart-warmingly beautiful kittens - whose eyes tell a story of wonder and amazement of their new surroundings, no hint of fear or panic clouding their green-tinted pupils - there is no other option than to get onto their ground and think like a kitten, is there? I can easily adapt to thinking from somebody else's point of view, which also manages to extend to the feline species - it's hardly a wonder that Bart and Benny may feel out of their depth at the moment because everything is either newer than the yearly Christmas schedule on TV or bizarre to their easily confused minds. However, I'm looking forward to bringing a lot of joy to their lives whilst they spice up my own; it may have taken more time than I ever believed would be possible, but I can bring myself to admit that all of it has been worth it!

Now I've got to check and see whether Benny has thrown all of his mouse toys out of his cardboard box with Bart acting as his accomplice!