Tag Archives: adorable kittens

Nike’s Christmas Letter

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Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all the bookstore’s cat and human friends near and far –

It’s my understanding that humans send a letter each Christmas detailing all the fun and exciting things that have happened in their lives since the last one.

I’m sure human adventures have little to compare to feline ones, but still, it’s sweet that you try. Now, to my own Christmas letter. Since I wasn’t here last year, being only six months old, we can all agree that the world is a better place now. I know you’ll want to hear about my whole life, so here it is:

ImageThe first thing I remember is being cold and hungry in a big dark place, and a sharp sting on my head. Then there was a lady saying nice things in a reassuring voice, and a car ride, and I was at the doctor’s having my head shaved. They saved me from dying of fly-strike, so I don’t fault them for laughing, but is it my fault the haircut accentuated my ears? I have a tiny body, so I did rather look like a moth.

Then I went to the bookstore, and people began cuddling me and saying how adorable I was. This part was fun, but soon I began to suspect that the bookstore people were trying to get rid of me. When people came to cuddle me, they kept saying I was “available” for “adoption.” When they said this about the other kittens at the shop with me, they began disappearing one by one.

Hmmmm….. I liked it at the bookstore. There was Owen, the muscular, attractive guy just a year older than me. We like to…. wrestle. And then there’s Valkyttie, the elder cat, fragile and brittle but she’s taken me in paw. She watches me play with Owen and then regales me with her adventures as a younger cat. Apparently she was quite the looker.

Now who would want to leave such a complete family, so I activated a cunning plan to stay. One of the humans who worked there seemed content to let me be, but I sensed resistance in the man. I set to work, rubbing my long silky fur against his ankles, leaping into his lap and purring as I nestled against his chest, gazing up with limpid hazel eyes, even emitting pathetic little mews in the mornings as he sipped his coffee, until he’d lean down and set me on his shoulder.Image

I thought it was all going well until one day I saw them packing my bowl and some favorite sparkly toys in a bag. I’d been “adoption”-ed? Well, I wasn’t having that, so I straightaway jumped into the man’s lap, lay on my back purring, and batted his mustache with my little pink paw.

So next Christmas my letter will again come from the bookstore, and meanwhile I pray for all the homeless kittens everywhere to find a safe and warm family, and for their owners to make sure they don’t have kittens themselves.Image

Egad! Those Ears!

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nike footThis is Nike Bad Ass The Moth. She was stolen from a family that has barn cats they don’t spay or neuter, by a caring passerby who realized she had “fly strike.” (If you want to know what fly strike is, Google it. Don’t eat anything while you do.)

Fly strike is a horrible way to die, so the lady got in touch with the rescue I volunteer for, and the rest is history. One very reasonable vet bill later (Thanks, Beth!) Nike was ensconced in the bookstore. And our hearts. And Jack’s shoes.

She loves Jack’s shoes. (I think she has a foot fetish overall.) She sits on them and he rides her through the bookstore. He sits down and she attacks, clinging to one side as she attempts to bite through the toe. He can stand up and walk and she’ll continue her attack. I don’t have a photo, because when she does it every adult in the house falls into gibbering incapacitated mush: “Ohlookshe’sdoingitagain. Sweetiebabiepatootieadorablecutiepiekisskisskiss.”

Or variations thereto.nike feet

Nike takes up about a cubic foot of space. And sucks the oxygen out of the room. Grownups entering the bookstore squeal with delight when they see her. Children make a beeline. One of my friends isn’t speaking to me anymore, because her sixteen-year-old daughter isn’t speaking to her because the kitten didn’t go home with them. (Sorry, Cathie!)

nike dogHaving left home too young, Nike picked up most of her life skills from watching our staff cats–she’s still a little soft on ear maintenance, but then it’s a big job for her–and we’re ready to audition permanent homes where she can rule as benevolent overlord. Nike has chased our 65-pound Lab away from her food dish; she also informed staff cat Owen – about eight times her size – that he needed to wake up and play with her, by whapping him with her paw. When he didn’t notice, she jumped onto his head and mauled him.

In accordance with T.S. Eliot’s advice, Nike has three names, her first given by the woman who rescued her. “Bad Ass” she acquired at Dr. Beth’s; I asked if “that kitten that just came in” was feral or aggressive, and Beth answered, “Yeah, not so much. But she’d like to think she is.” Then posted these photos.nike 3 Nike 1

I bet you’ve already worked out how she got “The Moth”.

So Nike Bad Ass The Moth awaits her furever fiefdom. Other dogs or cats are a bonus; she loves to play. Laptops are a must; she’s reformatted Jack’s twice this week. We don’t recommend her for small children. Nike loves to cuddle, but she’s so tiny, she could be squeezed to death.

We realize that people are reading this in Korea, Canada, and other cool places very far away from Big Stone, so we encourage you to get your next pet from a shelter or rescue. If anyone nearby is interested in Nike – or any of her foster siblings – come down to the bookstore and have a chat with her.

nike overlordShe’ll keep an ear out for you.