Home Forever
Home Forever
Was I dreaming? All I know is that I fell asleep and when I woke up, Mom said, “You’re home.” Home? “Yes, darling, you’re home. Now, try not to bite everyone you meet.”
Little Leo weighed 1.7 pounds when he arrived at my house. His legs were scruffy toothpicks, his ears patchy but mostly hairless, and the white splotch on his nose and mouth made it seem like he was snickering. We loved how his front paws looked like they were dipped in white paint while his back legs had sunk into the paint over his knees. His bib of white was the perfect front for the seven-week-old baby that he was.
Leo is an adorable high-energy kitten, a gift from my daughter and her husband. Jessica has been a foster parent for MADACC (Milwaukee Area Domestic Animal Control Commission) and Brad is a volunteer pit bull rescue walker. Every Friday a gal on staff livestreams the cats and kittens up for adoption, and Jessica and Brad often tune in.
When he was found alone on the streets of Milwaukee and brought to the shelter, the staff named him Bucky. They estimated him to be four weeks old, nursed him back to health, had him neutered, and put him up for adoption. But no one wanted Bucky. Having no mom or siblings as role models made Bucky a little ferocious with his play-biting. People would think he was cute, then go to pet him, and he’d bite. A bite from Bucky didn't hurt, but people were more drawn to the purring cats and kittens they could easily hold.
When I was visiting Jessica and Brad one weekend, Feline Friday was airing and the first thing the gal on camera said was, “Why is Bucky still here?!” All the other cats and kittens from the previous show had been adopted, but not Bucky. So we jumped in the car and drove to the shelter.
He was tiny. He walked over to us through his cage, and when we’d stick our fingers in to scratch under his chin or behind his hairless ears he’d start nibbling our fingers. Some would call that biting.
We asked the volunteer if we could hold him and she sighed. “Oh yes, but he’s feisty. He’ll settle down eventually.” As she walked into the small room where we were waiting to hold him, we overheard her saying, “Now Bucky, if you want to get out of here, behave!”
Jessica held him first, then I did, then Brad. He never did purr, and he did bite, but his baby teeth were harmless. Brad had noticed a young couple looking at Bucky earlier so he excused himself, found the couple, and asked which kitten they were interested in. It wasn’t Bucky—it was a sweet orange kitty that purred and purred.
That sealed the deal. Brad graciously paid Bucky’s bail money and sprung him loose, knowing I’d take him home, love him up, and he’d have a forever home.
And so I did. But Bucky immediately became Leo, because even with his small size he has the heart of a lion. He doesn’t roar, but he stands up to the other cats here and doesn’t back down.
Rupert, our buff-colored cat, is his only friend...so far. They play and play and play until Rupert has had enough and swats Leo away. When that happens, I treat them each to a dish of wet food, and then Rupert goes to the couch and sleeps for a few hours.
As for Leo? He climbs up on the bed in the guest room, which shocked us at first because we thought he was too little to jump that high. The bed sits on a tall frame, well off the floor to allow for storage underneath, and has a thick mattress. Leo climbs into the cozy kitty hut we placed up there for him, spins around three times, wraps his stringy tail around himself, and falls deeply asleep.
Nowadays when I wake up, I snuggle and purr with my new mom, though truth be told, I do still like to nibble fingers. I’m happy to be settling into my forever home.
