Ooooh! Cat topic. I love cats!
We have a flame point, but I'm never sure if Flame Point is Siamese or Himalayan. I don't have a picture of him but he is short-haired and blue-eyed and the sweetest cat you've ever seen! Here is a photo off the net of a cat that looks almost exactly like him:
OK, gotta tell you his story. I was at the vets with one of my other cats and waiting for the doctor to be able to see me. The whole waiting room was sort of keyed in on this one guy. He had brought his cat in because she had one baby and then had some kind of stroke or heart attack. Anyway, the vet came to tell him that the mother cat died. Why he did this in the waiting room, I don't know, they always bring me into a private room to discuss things like that, but anyway, there we all were hearing that this guy's cat had died. So, what to do about the newborn baby?
The vet explained that unless someone was willing to feed the baby around the clock, there would be no chance of it's surviving. Even with someone bottle feeding it, it's chances of survival was quite slim. The guy said that there was no way he could do it, he was a working man. We all felt so bad about this poor orphaned kitten, and the receptionist looked at me and said, "What about you, Dora? You love kitties?" I said I had substitute jobs lined up for the next two weeks and would be unable to do it either. Just then, who should walk in the door for a completely unrelated reason, but the woman who directs the local pet adoption league. Immediately everyone asks if the P.A.L. would take the kitten. She said that they were full with cats but if there was someone who promised to adopt the kitten, she would arrange feeding for it until it could eat on it's own. For some reason, everyone looks at me. Well, my daughter tends to appropriate all furry things as her own, so I figured my son could use his very own pet. The woman from P.A.L. warned me not to say anything to my son as the kitten probably wouldn't survive being bottle fed from birth. I gave her my phone number and told her that if she would find someone who could at least try to keep it alive, I promised to adopt it. Then they brought the kitten in. It was soooo tiny, it could fit right in the palm of my hand and I have small hands and it was completely white. But, boy it had that Siamese yowl and it was yowling for all it's little life was worth, poor baby.
Well, I collected Miranda, my tortishell went home and didn't say a word about it, especially not to my husband who probably would have grumped about the possibility of a 4th cat in the house. The chances were so overwhelming the poor little thing wouldn't make it, I figured if it did, I would somehow explain to Steve why I promised to adopt another cat without talking it over with him. (Hey, he's a push-over for cats as well and it's not like we don't have plenty of room on our 50 acres out in the middle of nowhere.)
In about 3 weeks, sure enough, there was a phone call from the lady from P.A.L. She told me that after she had left the vets that day, she took the kitten over to the League in order to try to find someone who could feed it. But, when she got there, she found out that someone had been in that very afternoon and dropped off a mother cat with newborn kittens. She put the kitten in with the mother, just to see if the mother would accept it, and sure enough she did. So, there was no need to arrange for a feeder, the little guy just fit right in with the other kittens and thrived.
That was last May and now he looks just like the picture above. He's such a sweetie and my son loves his "Snowball". (He was still pure white when we brought him home.) As for Steve, he made husband sounding noises but he truly didn't mind and it was just about 3 weeks after we brought Snowball home that he dragged home a little polydactylous Maine Coon kitten that a friend was trying to find a home for.