On a quiet Sunday afternoon, W and I walked under drizzling rain to visit three little 9-week-old kittens in the 7th arrondissement nearby. On a nondescript residential street, we entered a 4-number code at a big green door that opened to a single cobblestoned street lined with beautiful two-story houses. Houses! In the middle of Paris! Inside a wooden home covered in vines of blooming purple flowers, we were led into a bedroom where the three little ones came out of hiding. Curiously, they smelled us briefly before deciding that we were to be their very new playmates.
Two girls and one boy, each of them had a beautiful solid grey coat of silky fur. Born this year on Valentine's Day to a Chartreux mother and British Shorthair Crème father, they lived a happy and well-socialized life with their first human family.
While it was W who had a coup de foudre for this little one, it wasn't until I saw him in person did he steal my heart too. He came up to me clawing with his plump little paws for attention, then looked up at me cautiously to see how I would respond. We decided on him quite promptly, and named him Pistache, (French, pronounced "Peestach", for Pistachio) - because of his beautiful almond eyes that reminded us of one of our favorite snacks.
Pistache came home one week later, after we made sure he was completely weaned from his mother (a kitten who leaves home too early can develop behavioral problems and be fearful of humans). We also wanted to make sure that we had everything ready for him - kitten food (both dry and wet), food and water bowls, a comfortable litter, a fluffy bed, scratching posts, and plenty of paper balls for him to chase down and kill (he comes from a breed of natural hunters, afterall).
Although he was fearful on his way home, Pistache soon found his new home to be a very pleasant one, full of obstacles and fun things to climb up upon and explore. The big French windows were a natural draw, but despite that with flowers outside, the noisy streets and the height of the balcony still made it an intimidating situation to get over.
He soon found his favorite playground at the dining table, where he liked to jump from chair to chair, and then occasionally fall asleep upon one. And if you came up next to him to see why he was still sleeping after three hours, he'd open one eye, stand up and stretch, then turn his body the other way, before plopping down helplessly again into a snooze.
Two days into his new home, Pistache is still learning the rules we've set for him - one of which is being forbidden in our bedroom. He knows he's not allowed, but we're also pretty sure he won't give up on trying anytime soon.