This is how my neighbor's kitten, which we have named Chumlee, has ended up living here. We have kitty dishes filled with Meow Mix and water. We have shelter. We have kids to play with. You people seem to like me so I'm staying.
My neighbor's, however, are not just guilty of neglecting this kitten alone. Oh no. They had two kittens from the same litter apparently and I hadn't seen it about. This worried me. Do the other kitty die? If it did die was it a horrible neglectful death or did my first cat, the militant dumb gay one, eat it? Or was I just stealing a capricious kitten because we offered better snacks?
None of the above. The kitten was wary and a bit underweight. It finally came around when it was assured we had copious amounts of cat kibble and more than enough water to drink. Since we've come home from camping Chumlee's sister, a cat we used to refer to as "Bumlee" until we learned that it was a girl, has not left my home.
We've named her Beulah. Since we've been feeding her she's gained weight. She keeps an eye on the cat dishes. So far she's not farted or drooled like her brother.
Have a YouTube of the idiocy I've allowed to live in my house. Chumlee is the further kitten with tabby markings and Beulah is the closer with sable markings.
You know these cats will fit right into my household because the moment I started to film one sticks it's face into the other's butt.
So now the question is, "Becky, why haven't you gone to the neighbor and given them the good word about their kittens?"
Well, I'll answer that. They never seem to be home. I've never even heard them call for their cats. I'd hear it too. My air conditioner's still out and my windows and doors are open all the time. Unless my kids are screaming the call of "Here kitty kitty kitty!" should carry.
So, I'll take on these defecting kittens until I get tired of them and flush them down the toilet.
Or until I start smelling like a cat lady.