The story of Trixie-Belle

The short version that I put on Facebook: 
"Yeah, well, remember all the logic I used that we didn't need a kitten? Apparently someone decided I needed taken down a peg or two. Meet Trixie. She cried in the neighbor's bushes all night last night, and said neighbor has two dogs, one a Weimaraner. Guess who they asked to catch the kitten? And yep, kitten is currently safe and sound on the enclosed porch, til we can get her into the vet on Monday for a checkup and hopefully clean bill of health so she can meet the boys."

First picture

The full story is a bit longer:

I had taken our precious Sinatra to the vet for kidney issues (RIP my handsome kitty, I miss you!), back in June.  My vet's office was overrun with adorable little fuzzballs, that had been taken from a hoarding situation (and this is why I hesitated to use the words "Crazy Cat Lady" on this blog).  As much as I love kittens, my vet and I both agreed that with Sinatra in kidney failure, and Bishop being so LARGE - more on that later - that we really didn't need a kitten. 

Yeah, that'll learn me.  Little did I know that The Universe At Large was laughing its ass off. 

So about three or four hours after I got home, my husband, Chris, was outside doing something, and the neighbor-on-the-right came over and got him, saying that there had been a baby kitten crying in her landscaping all night, and could Shelly please come and catch it?  (Yes, my reputation in the neighborhood is well known).  My vague plan was to catch the kitten, and take it over to my vet's office, where she could put it with the horde of tiny fuzzballs she already had and find it a home.  However, time was not on my side, and by the time I armed myself with a can of smelly canned food and the carrier, and actually found and caught the tiny mite,  it was too late to head for the vet's office.   After some discussion between Chris and I, (this is putting it delicately), it was decided that since I'd already taken ownership of the problem, that the kitten was ours.  She went to the vet all right, but she came home with me.

Didn't take her long to have Daddy wrapped around her tiny paws.

And a tiny mite she was.  Healthy looking, though, except for a worrisome lack of energy, and a reluctance to walk. Bunny run, yes, but not walk.  The vet theorized that she'd been hit by a car or shaken by a dog and that she would either heal or adapt.  She's healed well, though she has a bit of a swing in her backyard.     We kept her quarantined from the boys until we could have her tested for FeLV (which caused me no little bit of stress, waiting for her to be old enough to test), and get the worms cleared out. After several vet visits, and worming, shots, and being spayed (more on that later, as well!)  she is a healthy, happy, member of our household.

Thoroughly spoiled already.