Right after Maddison passed away, I really craved a kitten. I wanted a spark in the house. Even after I adopted Brady, I still felt that pull. And actually, it’s because of Brady that I ended up with Fenway.
Harley, my senior cat, was about to turn 12. Although Harley is pretty peppy for his age and size, Brady seemed to want to play more than Harley’s energy would allow. Being the sweet soul she is, Brady started to just snuggle in next to him and not demand too much. But I could see her aging far too rapidly for her young spirit.
About this time, a mother and kitten were brought to the shelter. The mother, a Ragdoll, seemed incredibly exhausted, especially with a bright-eyed little kitten jumping all over her (turned out she was pregnant again already with what would be a litter of six kittens). I immediately fell head over heels for Fenway — a soft grey and white girl who purred super loud when you came near her. I took her home that night to give her mother a rest and there was no doubt that she would stay forever.
Fenway is about as kitten as you can get. She struts, she climbs drapes, she chases her tail, she chases the dogs’ and cats’ tails. She is a whirlwind who radiates fun and joy. She is a love bug but also is perfectly content to fall asleep on a chair in the corner by herself. She is perfection in a pint-sized wonder.
Best of all she is the missing piece to our puzzle here. She is active enough to engage Brady and bring out her kitten side but gentle enough to snuggle in next to Harley. She occasionally takes on the old guy, getting him in her version of a headlock, but mostly respects his space and toddles along after him. She and Brady crash through the house, up stairs, down stairs, across sofas and under cushions. She has brought out a side of Brady that was lacking, showing her how to be a confident, bold kitten. And in return, Brady hands out the occasional brushed kiss or side rub to her.
It’s fun watching the dynamics of this threesome and how one little kitten can make everyone whole again.