In dendi, that phrase means “how is your day?” Now, to me, it means “How is your new and awesome baby kitten?” Her name is Zaari and she is about 7 weeks old. Her birthday, then, I’m deciding, is February 5th. She is a light orange color with subtle white streaks and a pink nose. Her eyes are a sort of greenish blue grey color. She’s active and likes to explore, but because she’s from an African family, she’s still a bit feral. I’m taking her to the vet here in Djougou probably next week just to get her checked out and get rabies shots. If he’ll do it I’ll also get her spayed then, but she might be considered too young. Otherwise I’ll get her spayed as soon as possible; I only want ONE kitten.
I went to get her this evening when Imorou called me up and asked me if I was ready to go on a ride to get a kitten. I enthusiastically agreed, but was pretty skeptical of the whole situation when he showed up on his moto with a tiny cardboard box full of small holes. I asked him where we were going and he replied “Natitingou.” Which is like 30 miles away.
We ended up just riding for maybe 10 miles before pulling off on a side road and down a smaller twisting terre rouge. We ended up in front of what I later found out was his sister’s house. Three half naked children come running up greeting us in dendi and French and asking for gifts. Imorou, being the business sort of uncle that he is, just barks out an order and they go running off back into the house through the waving curtain that acts as a screen door. Seconds later they come bursting through with two terrified looking kittens.
One was a little plumper than the other. Both girls, I knew already I was going to have to change my name choice from Koyo since I had already planned that out as a boy name. The scrawny one was almost completely black with arrestingly blue eyes. The orange one was fatter, with grey eyes. They were both trembling with fear and when I set them down to see how they played with each other, they both joined forces and darted back underneath the curtain. I followed them inside and saw their mother, looking beat to hell, lying in a corner on the cement floor. Obviously still nursing, she seemed stressed and checked out. The black kitten was no where to be seen; one of the kids went off into the other rooms to look for it. The orange one, she was gnawing on the bristles of a broomstick that was laying near the mother, her fear already forgotten. Clearly it was not an ideal situation because generally I would have preferred happy kittens who liked to play and weren’t scared of people. But in this situation, I chose the fatter, slightly less terrified one.
The ride home was interesting. She definitely did not like her little box and tried to escape several times. It is not easy to carry a struggling kitten on the back of a motorcycle! But we managed to get to my house, buying a can of tuna for us both and a yogurt for me on the way. I immediately did what all the websites have suggested I do: put her in a closed off room with water, food, her bed, and her litter box and left her alone. She started meowing and crying right away, although stopped long enough to eat her tuna. I decided to replenish her food a bit, thinking that she probably wasn’t getting a whole lot of food back at the house. She ate all that, too. An hour or so later, I gave her more with a crushed up cherry tomato and she ate until she was full (and had a couple bites of the tomato, too). I am glad I don’t have to worry about her not eating!
For the first few hours I just let her stay in there; she quieted down after a bit and I chatted with Colt online while he prepped for his job interviews. It rained and thundered for a while and I was nervous about how she’d handle that so I went into the room and read a book on the bed while she explored (ie, stayed mostly under the bed). I talked to her softly, read out loud a bit and just got her used to me. I picked her up a couple times and petted her until she resisted and then set her down on her bed. She still didn’t really respond to me. I put my hand out before I left and she darted back under the bed. I was sad, so I left the room, feeling like we would never connect and she’d be scared of me forever.
I came in later to give her one last piece of tuna before telling her goodnight and giving up until tomorrow. Instead of hiding, though, she came right over to the bowl while I was breaking the fish into smaller pieces. Then I realized with a happy little jolt that she was actually purring! She leaned up against me just a little bit before she ate those last couple bites. Then she went over to her litter box and peed. Just like a normal cat! I just about died with happiness!
Of course, she promptly laid down and tried to sleep on her pee, so you know, I still have a ways to go. But, hey, I count that as a pretty decent start.
So, welcome Zaari. I really hope you don’t die anytime soon.
E
