A perfect adoption

The new kitten, Di Di Chi, is home for 49 hours. He has learned to stay by me as much as he can. He is at my hand, on my lap, under my feet, and snuggled between my legs and the couch as soon as I sit down. He likes watching the computer screen when I type. He is attaching nicely.

I did not really think about attaching to him, but kittens are cute, Di Di Chi is wooing me with his interest in me, and so my heart is opening. Already I am beset by the feeling that he belongs here and has always been part of the family.

Di Di Chi knows how to annoy his Jie Jie (big sister) Latkah, and there is definite sibling pecking order being decided. He sits in her day bed and she sits outside it and stares at him. He tries to eat Latkah's food, drink her water, and play with her ball. Latkah chases and makes annoyed noises, and has not refrained from growling and coming to me as if asking if this little pest is really staying. Latkah should know that adoption is final.

And Di Di Chi is beginning to test boundaries. Jumping up on anything he can, spilling a glass of water, messing up Julia's puzzle. We pick him up and put him on the floor. Chide him when we can. He does not listen. He is learning to fit into our human-dominated family. We are all bonding.

Di Di Chi is a rescue kitten, so I don't know anything about where he came from. He is only 8 weeks old so he probably was not nursed for long enough. I did not ask how old he was when he was rescued or if he came with other kittens. His life, for me at least, started when I brought him home. But then, I don't expect him to be asking about his life before he came home either.

He was kept at a vet's clinic waiting for adoption. It was a clean, rather bare, room. When we met him on Wednesday, there were two other kittens still waiting. I think there were 6 or 7 kittens in the adoption class. The room was clean, there was food and water, there was a climbing tree with soft places to play and sleep. He was not fostered but the receptionist told me that he liked to sit on the back of her chair from which I can assume that he had been out of that clean room and had some friendly human contact.

This has been, after 49 hours, almost a perfect adoption.

Do I need to make the comparison between my cat and my kid? If only my darling girl, and so, so many others, had the possibility of a family at 8 weeks old, was given adequate food, pleasant surroundings, and attentive adults as she was waiting, and came with an adoption fee equal only to the cost of care during a very short time. Would our attachment and bonding be closer to that of my Di Di Chi? Of course, humans are so much more complicated than kittens, but neglect can hurt kittens as well as children. How many people would be appalled if kittens were warehoused like some of our children are and have been? If it were in my power . . . but then, what is in my power? How can I not . . . I am not sure what . . . but something. For the children. Abandoned. Alone. And needing a family.