Thursday, December 20, 2018

Darwin

A month or so ago, one of my midwife partners was wanting to find a new home for her cat, Darwin.  It seems he wasn't very happy living in an apartment.  It was also relayed that he wasn't particularly fond of her sweet little baby either,.  Although Jared and I have been anti animal for several years, we were beginning to miss having something furry running around under our feet.  Plus, the pictures of him as a kitten were so cute...



So, we jumped feet first and decided to take him.  We have a nice big house, a decent sized yard, and larger babies than Chelsea, so we figured it would be a good match.  Plus, Chelsea said he didn't scratch furniture and used his litter box so what could go wrong?  Here's Bubba trying to convince him to be her friend the first day or so after he arrived:


How is it going with our new furry friend?  Well, fine if you're a member of the original Johanson family.  If your name is Darwin, however, it doesn't seem to be going as well for you.  First of all, he went missing about a week after he arrived.  We could not find him anywhere, and though I left food and water out for him for a week after he went missing, his litter box was devoid of turds and his food had not been touched.  I figured that he must have run out the front door and sheepishly told Chelsea I had only been responsible with her cat for exactly 7 days.  Fast forward nearly 2 weeks and I thought I could smell cat in the basement.  Jared and I went down and searched again.  No cat, no poop, and a scentsy took care of the strange odor.  Several days later, Emma was in the basement and Darwin ran past her feet.  The whole family tromped downstairs and after some serious searching, we found him tucked on a shelf behind my canning jars.  He was thin as could be and had obviously been drinking out of my basement toilet.  None of us could find the 2 weeks of poopie he had to have dropped somewhere, so we gave up the turd search and dragged our rediscovered treasure back upstairs.  We were delighted that our furry friend was very cuddly, full of loud purrs, and free with his leg rubs now that his long, self imposed isolation was over.  I figured he was probably over the trauma of his relocation and got prepared to settle in with my new furry son.    

Darwin's new found warmth for his new found family lasted exactly 24 hours and now, we are back to reality.  What do I mean?  Well, first, there's the biting - which can happen out of the blue if you aren't watching carefully.  Then of course there's the swatting and scratching, which if you are Bubba, you get a fair share of right to your face.  And then, let's not forget about the hissing, which Darwin has a particular talent for.  He has his sweet moments to be sure.  Every night, he jumps on my bed and purrs and snuggles for exactly 2 minutes.  Then he will either run away, or bite me and run away.  Trust me, it's been fantastic...  If you think for one minute that Darwin's crabby, snarling temperament has stopped any of us from trying to be his friend, (mostly Bubba) then you would be wrong.  For awhile, he started hiding in his litter box for some peace and quiet.  Bub caught on quick to that ruse.  Here she is asking why he's so rude.  Notice he is sitting in his bathroom:



When the litterbox trick stopped working, he went back to hiding deep in my closets and under the beds.  That doesn't stop Bubba and the rest of the crew from crawling into his hidey holes and dragging him out for forced attention.  In fact, you can find him slung over Bubba's arm for most of her waking hours.  As soon as he growls and snarls, she lets him go.  She waits long enough for him to hide again, and then drags him back out for another go.  Look how thrilled he seems by our affection in every picture we have of him thus far (the pinned down ears in 2 of the 3 pics should be your clue about his utter happiness): 




I sometimes feel a little down about my current pet predicament, but I refuse to give up hope.  Surely Bubba and her cronies will eventually be to able wear him down enough that he will submit to our love and care and might even seek our company for longer than a hot minute.  I guess even if Darwin never warms up, the kids will have something to reminisce about when they get older - I can envision even now all the stories about the snarling, unhappy pet that is our Darwin.  Oh well.  I guess while all of the Darwin scratches on my arms are healing I should probably go look for the missing poop in my basement again.  Anyone want to help?  




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