I have lived in the loft for about two months with Molly, my sweetest pup. We'd been having a wonderful time, but I did feel guilty about leaving her behind on the two days a week when I have killer classes from 8:00a.m to 6:00p.m. Although I have a dog-walker friend come and and take her out for a fifteen minute 'tank-emptying' session on each of those days, I really hated the idea of leaving her alone.
So, I decided to start looking for a roomie. We needed a male presence when Constantine was away anyway ^~ While I was busy trying to talk myself out of it, I started going on cat rescue sites. Molly isn't a dog's dog, she's a ladies' companion and I knew I'd overwhelm her with another pup or, heaven forbid, a puppy. Over the Canadian Thanskgiving weekend Constantine drove up from school to visit me. On Friday night, in the midst of a fantastic dinner made with tomato sauce from absolute scratch (I promise I'll explain our method later)
, I saw these pictures on the rescue site I'd been browsing:
He was a Maine Coon/Domestic Medium Hair mix that had been rescued from the death list at a high kill shelter in a rough area of town about an hour and a half away from me. Coincidentally, the woman who had rescued, fostered, and put him up for adoption lived about six minutes away from Constantine's house, where we were when the woman responded to my email with a call. Off I went, promising the boy that I wasn't going to come home with a bundle of whiskered love. I've never owned a cat (although it's always been a dream), because although I'm an all-round animal lover, I've always leaned towards dogs :3 He laughingly let me go, proving once again that he knows me well enough to see past my attempt at being a 'mature young lady' who doesn't make such rash, impulsive decisions.
I arrived at the foster woman's home which was complete with 7 cats and kittens and the pungent perfume of cigarette smoke and cheap litter. The woman herself and her husband I enjoyed immediately; they basically embodied kindness. They took me to a small room where the little gentleman was waiting, and I sat on the floor to meet him properly.
Darling readers he was stunning in person. The pictures I've included were those that were on the adoption website and they do him no justice. He's a big kitten already at 7 pounds, but they're seven pounds of long. He's so lithe and has the biggest paws and longest tail. As soon as I get my camera I'll start snapping away! He looks like sunlight and shadow on a forest floor or at the very least like a Cinnamon Dolce Latte ;3. Then came the amazing part:
He climbed into my lap, put a paw on my cheek, stared into my face, then, with hilarious sensuality, slowly, languidly licked my neck.
With that, I was hooked. I guess that makes me 'easy' by kitten standards but I could do nothing but sign the papers then and there. (I mean, after all, he'd found a sweet spot that had taken Constantine a good few months to perfect ^~).
I came home and set up the house for him, then returned and picked him up two days later. He's made the transition from his awful litter that was irritating his throat/nose to a wheat-based one known as "Swheat Scoop" (totally flushable, which I love), as well as to the best food I could find for him, called "BG, Before Grain", an organic product that has cut out all the crappy fillers used in cat foods so that he's eating at least 50% protein. I'm currently in the process of toilet training him as well, a fairly straight forward method of placing a litter pan, bowl, or tray in the toilet, slowly reducing the litter content, replacing it with a water, then removing the pan/tray/bowl altogether. It'll take around 4 weeks to 8 weeks depending on how quickly he progresses. I'll let you know! If this works for me I'd be happy to share every tip I glean on here with all of you who have cats of your own. Although the litter I'm using doesn't smell (which is a good thing as it costs me $16.00 a bag *wince), it'd be nice to get rid of the unsightly box altogether.
He's the cuddliest thing in the world and loves sleeping on my chest when we're watching movies, and curled up against my neck/cheek when it's time for bed. The-paw-on-cheek thing is a habit: he does it every time he falls asleep and it makes me melt every time. He and Molly get along brilliantly. They sleep together, play together (which involves him hiding then jumping over her out of nowhere) and groom each other. It's the sweetest thing to watch.
Oh, right; the name! He was originally named "Rocky"; "because his markings resembled 'Rocky Road Ice Cream'." Being a fan of neither the name nor the flavor (not when stuff like Stracciatella Gelato exists), I decided to rename him immediately. I toyed with ideas like "Darcy" for romantic male leads, charming male characters (Mercutio?), but nothing seemed to capture his sex appeal, beauty, or charm. Until I stumbled across the name 'Dolce'.
"He doesn't meow," said his foster mom, "you won't have to worry about a vocal cat." I beg to differ. On the car ride home, spent sneaking glances at the kitten in his carrier next to me who kept fixing me directly with his incredible amber-green eyes, I tried out all the names I'd come up with, starting with the one that he knew, but reportedly refused to answer (not that I blame him):
"Rocky?
silence.
Darcy?
silence
Mercutio?
silence
Dolce?
MEREAOW? (he has the most amazing, hilariously rough-sounding meow. I love it.)
... Dolce?
MAOWWW.
... Dolce it is then."
The name suits him perfectly, as does the fact that he chose it. He adopted me from the get-go and I couldn't be happier with my little family. I still can't believe that somebody would be able to kill this little darling, and I'm eternally grateful to Susan, his foster mom, who takes the time and money to rescue these little cats who have been bounced from pound to pound to pound.
I love him so much already, and I'm delighted that all of us are living la dolce vita ^~
❤ Miss
