Help us welcome our newest family member - Whisky!

Tuesday was my Sunday.  It was pouring the rain outside, and I was lounging on the sofa in the living room, drinking coffee and either reading a really smart, literary-type book about the French revolution, or binge-watching a mindless television series.

Suddenly I heard a very loud noise... it was coming from outside.  I could hear it very clearly, even though all the doors and windows were closed tight.  It sounded bad, and it went on and on, like a siren.

I flew up off the sofa and peered out the door.  All the outside cats that I feed every day were in the yard, about twenty feet away, staring towards me.  There, at my feet, was a very small orange cat making a VERY LARGE NOISE.

I started talking to her, and the noise she was making got bigger and louder.  She was soaking wet and shivering, and yowling like a mountain lion.  I ran back inside, got food, and came out and put it in the five dishes.  She continued yowling, and ate from every one of those dishes, like she had never eaten before in her life.  Her little concave belly and jutting hip bones made me think that might be the truth.  The yowling continued between bites, and if it wasn't so pathetic, it might have made me laugh.

 "ROWRcrunchRROWRcrunchRROWWWRRRcrunchcrunch..."

The rain really started coming down hard, and she was shaking from head to foot, so I scooped her up and brought her inside.  I installed her in the bathroom with her own food and water, and a makeshift litter box (a cardboard box with a plastic garbage bag wrapped around it like a liner, with litter poured in) and a cardboard box with a clean, dry towel in it for sleeping.

She figured out what everything was for, and after eating again, she curled up in the box on the towel and fell fast asleep, purring loudly the whole time.

I almost named her "Yeller", considering how I found her, but then I thought it probably wasn't fair to name someone based on what might have been the very lowest point in their life.  Bear and I decided on "Whisky", because she's that color.

First thing on the agenda was to get her checked by the vet, get all her shots and etc. so that she can be healthy and not endanger our other kitties.  I took her to our vet yesterday, and learned many things.

1.  Whisky is a BOY!  Even more interesting, he's a "cryptorchid" - which means his testes never descended.  They may eventually descend... but if they don't, getting him neutered will be more difficult, because it will involve abdominal surgery, more like spaying a female.  He will have to be neutered, because even if his junk isn't in the right place, it will still pump him full of hormones and make him aggressive and spraying stink, etc.

2.  Whisky has adult teeth - so what I thought was a small kitten was really a very undernourished adult cat!  He only weighs 1.5 pounds.... poor wee skinny creature!  That is going to change fairly soon, I think.  He will be able to eat whenever he likes, and he really enjoys the food we serve at this joint!

3.  Best of all, he tested negative for feline aids and leukemia!!  So happy!!

The other kitties are being fairly accepting of him so far.  One or two hisses from the youngest, who thinks Whisky is an alien, but the older cats have totally accepted him.  Whisky even jumped up and snuggled next to our oldest cat this morning, and he didn't even turn his head.

This morning, Whisky got a bath and a blow-dry, and he smells much better.  His tummy is getting round, and he is absolutlely a snuggle-bunny.  He's soaking up all the love that he's been missing.

Welcome, Whisky!