The Jazzy Chronicles : Arrival

May 17th, 2019, was my ‘gotcha’ day. When I left my whirlwind tour of cat carriers and arrived at my new home, it was after a long car ride. I tried to explain my discontent, but my mews of protest fell on deaf ears. The purring of the car engine was of little comfort, and I snoozed in the car. Since then, there is so much to tell you!
Oh, I should start with an introduction, first. I’m the cutest ball of fluff on four paws you will ever see. My name is Jazzy, and I am a torbie kitten. A torbie is a mix between a tabby and tortoiseshell cats. My little forehead sports a two-tone M, in tabby style, but it is half black and half orange. It adds to my special charm.
My eyes were still blue when I arrived, but their true colour is not on display. Tish thinks they will be grey or olive green. They see everything, and if it moves, with intense focus! I am a kitten, after all, and I want to play with everything I see.
We had a bit of a misunderstanding when I arrived. I don’t like cat litter. At all. I prefer a smooth surface to do my business on. It was hard to make the people here understand what my issue was. Now they keep half of the box litter free for me to leave my deposits in, thank goodness. I am getting a little more comfortable using my two, yes, two boxes they set up for me. This home might be up to my standards, after a few minor adjustments.
Like the room, Tish goes into at night. She shuts the door in my face. I try to look under the door, but I can only fit my nose to smell behind it. When they both go into that room, I must amuse myself. I can, but now that I don’t have my siblings to play with, the people need to focus on keeping me happy. I sneak in the room every chance I get, and there is a lot of stuff in there. With a huge closet to play in. Since we have resolved the first issue, I want to go everywhere in my new home. There is another door they keep shut, but they don’t go in there for very long. I can leave it alone, for now. The other room, with the closet, is on my list of things to get access to here.
For the first week, I spent my nights in isolation. I am not sure why the people wanted me in a room by myself all night, but they got better at making it more tolerable for me. They started leaving my tunnel tube in the room at night, and they left the radio on at a low volume for me. It is always on now and only gets loud when Tish goes in there behind the curtain to stand in water. The first time I saw her do this, I was very distressed. I voiced my opinion that she would drown in all the water, but she always manages to escape. I am not sure why she stands in the water. There were funny smells when she was behind the curtain, too. People are strange creatures, indeed.
Tish will kiss me right between the ears. Sometimes more than once. She plays with me, and when she picks me up for snuggles, it is impossible to stay awake. She is so soft and warm. She makes me sleepy every time. After so many naps with her already, I know she will be a fine companion to my feline lifestyle.
Roy is not here all the time. He leaves and then comes back home after a while. Sometimes Tish goes away, but not for so long, and she often finds me on her computer chair waiting for her to come home. She showed me the window where I can look outside. The vertical blinds are fun to play hide and seek around. I can hide in plain sight behind them, and peek out to surprise the people when I am hunting them. I walk really slow when I hunt them. I also hunt my toys and balls of paper. Tish throws them so I can chase them all over the house. It is lots of fun!
It is a good thing they took me home. I can tell cats lived here before, but their scents are faint. I did not find any other cats since I moved in. Tish and her mate, Roy, are cat people. They need me to fill a void in their hearts.
I heard a cat who used to live here, Dude, had a fan club. I want one too. If you want me to tell more stories here while you sip your coffee, please leave a comment. Tish will be sure to read them all to me.
I need a nap. Writing is hard work. As I am growing and playing, it is good to learn the fine art of cat naps at an early age. See you around the virtual coffee house.

Photo by Tish MacWebber
~Jazzy