I adopted my cats when they were 10 weeks old from a lady who rescued feral cats in Orange County on Halloween in 2010. I thought at the time I was ready for the 'small' increase in responsibility they would bring. I thought it would be nice to have the extra company around. I thought getting two would mean they would need me less because they would have each other. I thought it would be lovely to something/one to cuddle with on the colder days. Oh, I had so many optimistic (and naive) thoughts.
Dove and Oliver. Both their names symbolize peace, a dove and an olive branch. Seemed like a good start. Both kitties were also very friendly. Dove seemed to have no fear and Oliver, while more cautious was also engaging. And so they became mine.
I have a video of when they first stepped out the carrier and into my home. It's pretty cute, though I do notice now that Oliver went straight to scratching the side of the couch. I've the next couple of days, they were typical springing little kitties, bouncing all over the apartment. I remember coming home for lunch to check on them and I think I laid down for a nap. Both kitties found a way to curl up on me. Then they started their motor purring. I think it was the first time I heard them purr. I couldn't decide if it was annoying or comforting. Hey, it was loud and I was trying to nap!
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