Once Was an Xmas Kitten: Rook the Rescue Kitten

by Jeanne C.
(Baltimore, Md.)

Meet Rook the Rescue Kitten! Photo of Rook as an Xmas Kitten, and Jeanne shares Rooks story about his rescue and kitten adoption.

Rook the rescue kitten came to us when he was just five months old. It was three days after our seven and a half year old, Ginger, had died from a series of strokes. I've always had cats so it didn't seem right not to get another one after Ginger died, even though Ginger was my buddy, my special cat friend. So, with a heart still heavy with grief, I called my friend, Fran, who works for Cat Rescue of Maryland. She had two kittens, she said. Both black and white; brother and sister. There had been three, but one died - they were all sickly when found. The sister rebounded quickly, but the brother was touch and go - they thought they were going to lose him. But now he was a healthy, tough, five month old kitten. Without a doubt, that was the one I wanted - the boy.


Fran brought him over that day. We had put Ginger's toys away, but left out a few for the newbie. I also got a new litter box and food bowls, and new water bowl. Rook (my son named him after a chess piece) wanted none of it. As soon as Fran let him out of the carrier he took off, down the stairs, into out bedroom, and under the bed. All we saw was a black and white blur....


After finally coaxing him out (about two hours later), I carried him up, and showed him where the litter box was, and where the food dishes were. When I let him down, he promptly ran under the buffet and stayed there. My son and daughter tried jingly toys and wand toys to draw him out, but he would have none of it. That night I stayed upstairs. He cried and cried under the buffet.

Finally, when I dozed off, I woke to the sound of tiny paws going into the kitchen. A few minutes later they padded over the the upstairs bathroom, where we had the litter box. When I checked, he had eaten some of the food, and used the litter box. Then it was back under the buffet. This was his pattern for two days - hide somewhere, sneak out to eat, use the litter box, then hide again. And cry.

We left him alone, but let him know we were there. After two days, he finally crawled out to me and let me put him on my lap. He didn't like being held, but liked laps. Then he discovered the cat bed, which he claimed. He loved sleeping in the cat bed! And the toys, he loved playing with them. He would toss the little toy mice in the air and catch them and wrestle with them.

About two weeks later he had pretty much settled in, although he did have some strange habits. Fran had dogs at her place, and Rook must have learned well from them. When a "stranger" would come over, Rook would sit there and growl at him or her. Dog or cat? Eventually the growl changed to a hiss. And then he would run.

We have several doors in our apartment; one leads out to the lobby, another, to the basement, and the third, to a small foyer where the side door is. One morning, when Rook had been with us a little over a month, I couldn't find him anywhere. I called my husband at work and asked him if he was sure the cat didn't get out when he left for work. My husband is in a wheelchair and leaves through the basement door, where he can take the elevator up to the first floor and go out through the lobby.


Of course he swore Rook didn't get out, but I had a funny feeling.....I grabbed a flashlight and went into the basement of our building. There are storage lockers, utility room, and pipes and such. I canned the ceiling beams with the flashlight - no Rook. I looked in every nook and cranny - no Rook. But I kept hearing a strange, little cry...and I knew it was him. My daughter joined me, and soon she realized the sound was coming from a huge pipe laying against the wall. I looked inside and there he was - terrified, too scared to come out! Just like old times!

We tried his favorite toys, but nothing could bring him out. Finally, I had Stephanie lightly bang on one end of the pipe - that did it - out he ran, and I grabbed him. He huddled close to me, not trying to escape from my arms for once. As soon as we brought him back inside, he ran to this food bowls, toys, cat bed - everything he was now familiar with, as if checking to make sure it was all there and he was really, truly back where he belonged.

At that moment, I realized he did, indeed, belong with us. Not as a replacement for Ginger - but as an addition to our family. When I realized how scared I was of losing him, I knew he was officially mine. And Rook knew it, too.

He still doesn't like being held, but will sit on a lap. He still loves his toy mice, and wand toys, but especially loves laser lights and foam balls. He is a great catcher - throw him a foam ball, he will leap in the air and catch it, then toss it back! He loves to help me change sheets, running under each layer - occasionally not remembering how to get out. Then he does his funny little cry until I pull back whatever cover he is under.

He wakes me up each morning by licking my face. He is, most definitely, a "kissing" kitten. He always gives me a "kiss" when I open a can of his favorite fancy feast grilled food. He rotates each night, sleeping with a different family member. One night he'll be in Paul's bed with him; the next, in our bed, snuggled by my husband's feet.

I call him bubba boo - I have no idea why, but he responds to bubby, bubba boo, and bubba ...and Rook. I look forward to many many years of fun with him.

Thanks Jeanne. Keeping Kittens supports the idea of kitten adoption and love to hear about kittens and cats being rescued!

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