Welcoming Celia, a rescue kitty

Celia is a people-loving, long-haired kitty who had a rough first few months and a heavenly last few days. Molly seemed so lonely without her sister, MacKenzie, the hope is that they’ll soon be best buds. At this point we’d settle for a little less hostility.

Celia is less than a year old and was rescued from the county animal shelter by Molly’s vet. She was one of six taken in that day, all on the list to be euthanized because of upper respiratory infections. Celia had another surprise and delivered five kitties a few days later, much too early, and none survived.

Though she was still sick when I met her, she wanted nothing more than to snuggle into my neck and purr – a really loud purr!

A few days later, she was cleared to head home.

Molly ran to the carrier when we came in, peered inside and backed up. It wasn’t her beloved sister MacKenzie. When Celia ventured out of the carrier it seemed as if her body would ever stop due to the size of her tail – bigger than a huge bottle brush.

After a few hours in a bathroom, as suggested by the vet, with food, litter, toys and a cat bed, we took a walk around the house showing her all the rooms.

Two days later, she was sicker still and returned to the vets for a week. Molly finally relaxed and inspected everything in Celia’s room.

And now Celia’s back – obviously better, though still sneezing – eating Molly’s food rather than her kitty food, playing with Molly’s favorite toys, sleeping in Molly’s favorite spot and competing with the same people for attention. Actually Celia pretty much demands it and if she doesn’t get it, will climb up your back. (Yes, we still have a few things to work on!) Humans are her favorite “toys” and she loves nothing more than cuddling.

At this point Molly is still cautious, still curious. She’s hissed a few times at Celia who ignores the hiss and runs toward her. And twice, when Molly was sitting next to me, Celia jumped on top of Molly to join the pile – even though there were other open laps in the same room.

Poor Molly now spends most of the day upstairs while Celia is downstairs. They’ve worked that one out themselves.

Celia spent pretty much her entire life in a cage before coming here. Now, she spends her days with the run of the house but seems most comfortable at night still sleeping in the first-floor bathroom with her food, water, litter box, toys and cat bed. She goes in with no fuss, most likely exhausted from all the attention. Molly seems grateful when that time rolls around each day. Hopefully someday soon she’ll be just as grateful when Celia walks out of that door each morning.

In the meantime, late evenings are for spoiling Molly – and soliciting advice for a smooth transition.

Welcome home Celia!

— Marylynn G. Hewitt

Molly – the sister MacKenzie left behind

My Mom calls Molly “a dickens.” (Lovingly, of course.) She can squeeze her way through narrow openings, never met a box or bag she didn’t explore, and never met a closed door she didn’t want opened. If her voice were human,  it would be filled with laughter.

Molly is quick as lightning and runs at the speed of blur. It took her 11 years to trust me holding her for anything more than 10 seconds. Since then, she can’t get enough of me. She’s persistent, knows what she wants, loves to get brushed and turns everyday activities – changing sheets, scrubbing the floor and bringing in the groceries – into a game. Molly loves to “read” by pawing at magazine pages front to back, back to front over and over again.

She has also managed to climb the brick wall in the family room to the ceiling, jump from the kitchen floor to the top of the refrigerator and hide on top of the basement ductwork hours before her vet appointment. Somehow, she and MacKenzie, her littermate sister and friend for 14 years, wordlessly communicated that it was a day to hide.

There were two cat beds, two cat dishes and two of their favorite catnip toy of a dog’s face, but neither ever claimed one as their own. Thankfully, with no human training, neither of them ever tried to get outside, walk on the counters or climb onto the table.

When someone went into the bathroom they anchored each side of the door like stone lions at a mansion. These days Molly sits lengthwise in front of it. It seems as if her sprit has withered since MacKenzie died

At first Molly would start each day in what seemed to be a search for her sister. She sleeps in some of MacKenzie’s favorite spots and pushes through the stairway spindles like her sister did reaching for a kiss on the top of her forehead. One day I was deleting audio files and came across one of MacKenzie, who loved to chat. Molly dashed in and looked up with hopeful eyes.

I think it’s almost time to search for a sister.

— Marylynn G. Hewitt