I was reading through my recent posts, and discovered a glaring oversight: the introduction of the newest family member. No, not the little dude still swimming around my belly. This little guy:
This is Tomodachi. Tommy, for short. He was rescued by my friend Emmett from the bowling alley. (Yes, you read that right. The bowling alley.)
See, Emmett works part-time over there, and one night a couple months ago he was on a closing shift. The guys working on the snack bar side were moving some pallets around, when a tiny blue-and-white kitten fell out of a pallet, landed on the floor, then bolted to a corner to hide. The ladies working thought it was a rat, and screamed, and Emmett came running to save them from the vermin...only to discover the two-month-old kitten, cowering behind a mop bucket.
I have long been convinced that babies of all species are adorable to ensure their survival. You see someone so tiny, so cute, and your instinct is to protect them. This was Emmett's instinct that night. The problem was, his landlord won't let him keep any animals besides a goldfish. So, he called us to help.
And of course, we couldn't say no.
Tim actually drove out there to collect him. (It was pretty late and I was pretty tired and had to work the next day, anyway.) He came home, set the kitten up in the room designated for the nursery, then came and told me I had to see this kitten.
He was tiny, very skinny, had a hurt paw and tail, and a couple fleas. (Thankfully, only a couple, and once we got rid of those they never returned.) His fur was matted, he needed a bath desperately, and he kept trying to nurse on my fingers.
Well, he sure didn't like the bath, nor did he like his paw being cleaned with an alcohol swab (although he didn't mind the antibiotic ointment so much). He absolutely loved the milk-soaked kibbles we fed him and the attention we lavished on him. And once again, I was blessed with a kitten that just used the litterbox with no training.
Fast-forward a couple of months, and Tomodachi is doing fantastic. When we finally got him in to see the vet, his paw was healed, his tail was healed, he'd gained enough weight that you couldn't count his ribs just by looking at him...and he was still flea-free. Not to mention worm-free. The vet commented on how healthy he was...which goes to show how much a little love and attention can help. (Food doesn't hurt, either.)
In case you were wondering about the name..."Tomodachi" is Japanese for "Friend." What's funny is, he and Buddy are practically inseparable. (Star, in her usual aloof manner, could care less about hanging out with them.)