One day this past Spring, I was walking campus at lunchtime, and I stopped by the feral colony shelters that my friend Ed built to see if any kitties were out. Of course, the adults near the feeder scattered; but there were two tiny black kittens crawling out of the shelter. I walked a bit closer, knelt down, and said "Hi, kittens!" One kitten turned and ran back into the shelter, but this little guy ran straight toward me! I picked him up, and he purred like crazy. "Well, I can't very well put you back on the colony now!" I said, so off we went to the office, where he spent the rest of the day getting love from all of the employees and student workers.
The first picture was taken as we were walking back to the office. He looks like he's raising holy hell, but he's just meowing VERY loudly. The other two were taken today. You can see he has quite a personality. I couldn't think of an appropriate name at first, and just started calling him Pookie for something to call him, and it stuck. He is long, lean, and silky-shiny. He's all black, except for about 5 white hairs right under his neck.
About a month ago, he gave me a scare when he didn't come to bed one night. I had been out kind of late, and thought it odd that he wasn't in bed when I went to bed, because he always sleeps with me. But it was late, and I was tired, so I went to sleep. In the morning, he still wasn't in bed, so I got worried and went looking for him. I found him laying on the bare basement floor. When I picked him up, he was practically limp in my hands, very lethargic. This is a kitten who is extremely active. I immediately called the vet, who said bring him in.
Pookie had a temperature of 105 degrees, which is very high. The vet recommended testing him for leukemia, which would take about 10 minutes. They took him back for blood and brought him back to me, and I sat there crying for 10 minutes while they ran the test. Doc came back in and said the test was negative, and I breathed again. He said they could give him a shot to bring down the fever and see what happens, but this was probably some kind of virus. He got the shot and some medicine to bring home, and by the next morning at 5 a.m., Pookie was attacking my feet just like always. I hope he outgrows this habit soon...even on the weekends he attacks my feet at 5 a.m., as well as his brothers and sisters. But he's so dang cute, I can't help but just laugh at him. He's five months old now and will be neutered soon; maybe that will calm his little butt down a bit.
