That night I had a dream that we went to the fleamarket and at the end of the aisle there was a box with 4 little kittens. In my dream I hovered over the box, finally picking out a dark little kitty.
Early Sunday morning (so, noon) my boyfriend got up and was leaving the house when I asked "where are you going?" .... when he reminded me he was going to the fleamarket to buy hardware tools, my dream flashed through my head and I decided to trail along.
At the fleamarket when we got to the end of the row, I drug Angel over to the spot where the kittens were in my dream. There sat in a basket on the ground one lonely kitten. I asked how old it was, "2 months" said a mother and daughter in unison, and I willed myself away, reasoning we already had a cat, trying to ignore the omen I felt my dream had been.
We took only about two steps away when Angel goes "...why aren't we going to take it?" No thinking required, we retraced a few steps and said "OK!" But looking at the kitten more closely, I asked them "Its really 2 months old?" To which they insisted at first, then admitted "maybe a little younger" and eventually "Well, they were born on March 2, so I guess she's only a month old. There were 4 of them but someone adopted the other 3 before you got here." 4 kittens originally? I must've just overslept my cue to reenact my dream.
It disgusted me that these people were knowingly and deceptively trying to give away kittens too young to be away from the mother, claiming they were 2 months old and handing us a bag of huge hard pellet food which would've been near impossible for the kitten this little to ingest. I wanted to tell them to take her back home for a few weeks, but I knew they wouldn't. Anyway, I know I'll take good care of her and she'll probably be better off with me than some of the alternatives.
While I was dying to name her something related to the jungle, Angel has insisted on "Rayita" since the begining. So, Rayita it will be. I named the last one.
Without further ado... Meet Rayita. She's one month and 3 days old. She weighs 365 grams (12 oz) and speaks like a gremlin.
When we got home she took a nap, then I set her in this big mug to take a picture similar to the one everyone oogles at on the front of my notebook at work. (Yes, the professional look of my notebook has already been jabbed at.)
At night she could not be left alone. She meowed and meowed and devised ways to escape from various containers, boxes, clothes hampers, etc... When we finally let her have her way she climbed on the bed and slept all night on my neck. Its good someone finally got to sleep, because I sure didn't... I was so nervous I would roll over on her that I hardly got a nap in.
So much for the photoshoot, she fell asleep inside the mug!