Shep

First photo of Shep (Sam Shepard...) He is not sure about this place and sorely misses his brothers and sisters. When T and I went to get him, I said, "I hope he is still the runt of the litter. I like little cats." 

And then there he was. The biggest of the litter. The breeder informed us that, "That one eats like a teenage boy." I gave him a nervous look. 

He marched right up to me and jumped into my lap, bumping his head insistently against my chin, as if to say, "I have been waiting and waiting and waiting....About time!" The other kittens meandered around and were skittish about being held, like most bengals. Not Shep. He flopped over on his back, offering up his creamy white belly for a long rub and purred like mad. 

The breeder laughed. "He is his own cat. If he likes you, he will let you know. You might find that he likes it to be his idea, though. But, seriously....a warning. He eats like a pig. But, feel him. He's not chubby at all. He's just big, like his sire." 

We went out and met Rip, his dad....or as they call it...his sire or his king. Rip looked like a bobcat. Huge. We were told that his Mom (queen?) was gone. That she had not taken to being a parent and had attempted to eat one of the kittens, so she was given a new home. The breeder seemed oddly cold about the whole thing. 

"I bought her to breed and I can't have her eating her children. Plus, she refused to feed them right from the start, so we had to bottle feed her brood. She was a pretty little thing, though. Just not breeding material."

The other cats seemed to pretty much ignore us. Not Shep. He immediately acted like we were family. He was in my lap and if he wasn't in my lap and the breeder brought me another kitten to hold, he bustled right in and pushed the other kitten out of my arms as if to say, "She's mine, buster."

So, we set the carrier on the floor and the breeder set him down in front of it. 

"He won't go in," she mused. "The only time the kittens have been in a carrier was to go to the vet to get fixed. You will have to put him in." 

We didn't. He walked in and curled up, his green eyes fixed on mine. Once settled, he meowed loudly as if to say, "Let's get the show on the road, humans." 

So, we did. 

Now that we are home, he is less cocky. We opened the carrier in front of his litter box (located in my office....not ideal but nowhere else to put it) and he tentatively stepped out. I put him in his box and he jumped right out of it and hid under my desk. 

Little by little, he has emerged. We have a special holey blanket for him that he seems to favor. He tucked himself under there, peeking out of one hole or another several times for a neck rub and finally settled down for a nap. 

T and I are tiptoeing around as if Bruce Springsteen is under there. We are having whispered conversations about whether to leave him to go grocery shopping or to put him back in his carrier. 

"I feel as if we have a new baby in the house," T said. 

Me, too. 

It might be a long few nights until he feels safe. I guess we'll do it as we do everything. Day by day. Step by step. 

But, Shep is home.