Kitty Mountain: Pennywise and Yondu

When Habibi and I moved to our current home with Jammy and the kitties in 2014, one of the first things we realized was that we had neighbors.  Yes, I'm aware that I am stating the obvious, but let me clarify: we had unusual neighbors.  To avoid belaboring the point (too late), there is a colony of feral cats that lives behind our home, down the back alley a short distance, and up inside of a man-made rock face.  Over the past few years, we have gotten to know the residents of Kitty Mountain (as we have lovingly christened it) without ever actually getting near them; they are 100% feral and will NOT approach a human.  They do, however, know at what time one of my neighbors -The Cat Whisperer- will come out to feed them.  At 5 pm sharp, they are outside his door.

New litters have been born and it is always exciting to see five or so new, adorable, little kittens emerge.  Among these furry neighbors have been Outside Dave, Donut, Mama Ramos, Hopscotch, Darth Vader, Rafi, Moscow, Carl Weathers, Mayonnaise, Oolong, LeFou, Gaston, Fergus, White Whiskey, and Widget (to name a few).  The only remaining O.G. -who has actually been here longer than we have- is Donut.

Donut is everything you imagine a tough alley cat to be.  He is big, muscular, aggressive, and looks mean.  Imagine a stereotypical, crusty, old Vietnam vet hanging out in some hole in the wall bar and looking for fights.  That's Dody.  He prowls the back alley, taunting every single indoor cat who looks at him from a safe window perch.  You can tell he likes how pissed off they get when he sprays the bushes in the yard.  He's an asshole.  Betty hates him.  I love him.

This past October, after Ribbers and I had dropped Jammy off at school, we returned home while the landscaping crew for our hood was out working.  Amidst the sounds of leaf blowers and lawn mowers, I thought I heard a mewing sound.  Convinced it was just some piece of machinery, I didn't give it much thought.  However, when I heard the distancing of all the loud equipment, the mewing sound became more pronounced.  I suddenly became nervous as one of my worst nightmares is finding an animal in trouble and not being able to help them - like if they are up in a tree and I cannot reach them, or won't let me near them if they are injured.  Nevertheless, I opened the front door and followed my ears.

Turns out, I didn't have to follow them that far, because just between my front wall and the bush in front of it was a tiny, black kitten.  Ferocious AF, he spat and scratched at me as I reached down to scoop him up.  He was so little he could fit into one of my embarrassingly small hands.  Fortunately, I caught a glimpse of some movement in my periphery and noticed another small kitten (a grey one) in my neighbor's bush.  I immediately rushed down the sidewalk and scooped up the second kitten, who was slightly larger than the first.  As I cradled both kittens, I found one of the landscapers and asked him -like the crazy cat lady that I am- to come knock on my door if they happened to find any others.  He never did, so I can only hope that these were the only two.

Pennywise, named for the evil clown from It, because of his ferocious disposition

Yondu, named for the alien dad/friend/enemy/whatever of Star Lord from Guardians of the Galaxy, because Yondu is a baller name for a baller kitten

After bringing them inside and finding a box to safely contain them, I put them in the warmth of my main floor bathroom.  I immediately called both the vet and the local Humane Society to see what they would recommend for care.  I didn't know how old these kittens were, but they weren't super sturdy on their feet.  Whether it was from age, fatigue, fear, or lack of nutrition, I couldn't say.  The Humane Society recommended that I leave them outside and monitor them, in case the mother came back.  I did this for a few hours and, when the mom did come by (pretty sure their mama is Darth Vader and dad is ol' Donut), I accidentally scared her off when I didn't see her.  I felt awful, but I couldn't leave them out all day as a downpour was beginning.

I had left them with some water, per the vet's recommendations, but they never touched it.  Since I brought them back into the house, I knew I was going to have to feed them at some point.  On our way to pick Jammy up from school, Ribs and I swung by the local Petco to find some kitten formula.  We were really doing this, so I wanted to do it right.  We got a pack of pee pads, some formula, and headed back to school.  Upon returning home with both kids, I informed them that I thought both kittens were males (super hard to tell when they are so tiny) and that their names were Pennywise and Yondu.

Yondu (grey) and Pennywise (black)

Over the next few days, we fell in love with these little farts...while Betty fell in hate with them and Alice continued to live in oblivion.  Habibi and I both dropper fed them to their satisfaction, kept their space clean and safe from Betty, and all four of us played with them to tire them out.  Even Ribbers, who had initially been so terrified of them he scrambled up on top of the toilet with inhuman speed, was holding and snuggling them by the end of their stay with us.  But I knew we couldn't keep them.  We already had two cats who didn't get along; two more would destroy us.

Still, I didn't feel right sending them to the Humane Society.  Since I had inadvertently separated them from their mother (something that probably turned out to be a good thing, since kitty lives are typically pretty short and rough on the Mountain), I wanted to try my best to keep them together.  I texted everyone I knew, posted on Facebook, and prayed like a sinner on death row.  But God is good, because one of my students informed me of a co-worker who was willing to take them both AND continue dropper-feeding them!!

Pennywise and Yondu -though their names have been changed- are happily living in their new home with their people, two other cats, and two dogs.  Their new mama has texted me photos and videos of the boys growing and thriving.  I'll be honest: I cried like a baby the night before she came to pick them up, but I knew that I was just their very short-term foster mama, and that we could never be their forever family.  These two precious little shitheads taught us so much in their short time here.  My kids got to learn about kittens ("No, Ribbers, they do not like it when you sing Friend Like Me loudly in their faces."), practice being extra gentle ("Try holding him like this, Jammy."), and laugh their heads off at some too-friggin-cute kitten behavior.  We may have found them and been able to give them a happy cat life for our turn, but they really gave us a very special gift.

A week after Pennywise and Yondu left, we found a full grown husky, perched atop my neighbor's car.  (Spoiler: the dog was happily reunited with his family.)

Welcome to the jungle, baby.