To paraphrase Prince Edward from Enchanted, “What’s not to love?”
At some point in their life, every cat was a kitten. But Zuko, our newest addition, is the youngest cat I’ve adopted in quite some time.
Diane and June were both around a year old when we adopted them, and they were adopted a year apart. We adopted Diana shortly after becoming a one cat household; Mungojerrie (aka Mungo) had never been an only cat and was adamant about needing attention… in the middle of the night. We went to the local pet store to meet the available cats (from a shelter they partner with) and Diane called to us. Literally, she meowed at us for attention.
A year later, we adopted June, who was a young mother looking for a home. Two of her kittens were with her that day, but their personalities weren’t a good fit with Diane and Mungo’s. She fit in perfectly, and between her and Diane, they got Mungo moving again until he passed away at nineteen.
A couple years ago, we adopted Arwen, our “kitten”; her adoption story has already been told here. She settled in nicely with June, and eventually reached a peaceful point with Diane, with the occasional mutual bath. She was already six months old by the time she moved in, and remained our smallest cat, but only by weight; her metabolism is that of a huntress.
Near the end of May, some friends were adopted by a cat with her litter of kittens. Despite cat allergies in the house, they took them in and looked after them until the kittens were old enough to find new homes. Two weeks ago, the potential adopter for Zuko fell through. I had been good up to that point, but really, he needed a home, and who could resist that face? Even the older cats are coming around, though if he really annoys them, they could just sit on him for a while, given the size difference. And like Arwen, he purrs like a motorboat.