Henry VIII

Here he is, the newest addition of the household - Henry VIII, or just Henry for short. I was able to adopt him locally, and he looks to be about 5 weeks old, maybe more. I'll find out soon enough.

He comes with a story, an interesting one, mostly because I believe in fate and how things all happen. I've been looking for a kitten for about a month or so now, as a new friend for Stormy, as we lost Via back in the spring. I was particularly looking for an orange male, like REALLY orange male, and of course, being the pet lover I am, look to the SPCA or the vet for pet rescue animals, not a breeder or pet store. I've been watching the adoption list for the local ones and nothing had come up, and so I finally decided in the end that when I next go to the city, I'm coming home with a kitten, one way or the other, regardless of color. And then today came...

I was over at a neighbor's house, visiting with the family after a recent death (yesterday) and the granddaughter of the lady who passed on was telling me all about her grampa's kittens and how they need to give some of them away still, and so I asked her how old they were. She said she thought about a couple of weeks, maybe older. So off we traipsed, me and a trail of children (4 of them) to Grandpa's house to check out these kittens. Turns out they appear to be about 5-6 weeks old and of course were cute as hell. The one I was instantly drawn to was a solid grey one, but was a female, which I was not looking for - there's only room in the house for one bitch in heat, and that's me.

Then I saw Henry. He was cowering in the corner, looking slightly smaller than his male siblings, cutest face ever. I held them all, but eventually picked him out of the litter and brought him home. Unable to shake my posse, they followed me home to see my other cat (ONCE) and then I sent them on their way. Too easy to set a dangerous precedent whereby I have children knocking on my door at all hours of the day and night, wanting to play with my cats. Been there, done THAT. Had nothing to do with who the children are, and I simply explained to them that I need to have time to myself after working with people all weeklong, them included. And they were fine with that.

And you think the story ends there. I received a parcel from my mother today...and along with a bunch of Come Home Year stuff, was Via's ashes in the wooden box the vet put them in before shipping them out. I had to put Via to sleep last spring and was unable to get her cremated for several weeks due to the crematorium being out of commission. The day before I left on vacation in June, the vet called to say the ashes were ready, what did I want them to do with them. Since they are in the city, I asked them to mail them out Xpresspost to Newfoundland where I was going to visit my parents, thinking I would just sprinkle them over the brook bridge there, since Via was born in Newfoundland. Only they didn't arrive before I had to leave to come home, and they sat on my mother's desk for the summer, until now when they finally arrived home.

So there I was, looking for a kitty, find one today, on the day Via's ashes return, and find her through a young girl I was comforting after losing her grandma, and hearing that her mother was worried she wouldn't find homes for the last few because no one was looking for kittens, and it occurred to me that this was a kitten I was meant to have, and I could help out the mistress by taking a kitten home with me.

Stormy was less than impressed but has settled down now and is ignoring Henry, who is curled into a ball next to me between my side and the pillow on the sofa next to me, sleeping. Awww...cute as he is, he has to sleep in the bathroom tonight as I don't trust Stormy to leave him alone, and I am afraid of losing him in the house.

His name I came up with after realizing he was small, and that Stormy was HUGE next to him, he would need a strong name, so thought of Henry VIII.