Foster Mom

I've made noises for years about wanting a pet, and on Monday, my mother brought me a stray kitten she found foraging in the dumpsters outside the school. I was wholly unprepared to accept an animal, but there was no place to take her at the time, so my mother begged me to give the kitten a chance. So I did.

The kitten is the sweetest, snuggliest, purriest girl in the world, but I don't think she's a good fit. She's rambunctious and claws anything within reach, including me, in her attempts to play. I look like I've been dry-humping a weedeater and taking bukkake shots from Neosporin Man. She refuses to sit still for more than a nanosecond, tries to chew the cable, phone, and computer cords, and spends the night begging us to play with her. I haven't gotten a full night's rest since Monday, and I'm cranky. It's not her fault--she's just being a kitten--but I can't handle a cat that won't let Roomie move without sitting on his feet, and who kneads her kitty claws on my head.

So, on Tuesday, unless someone wants her, I'll have to take her to a shelter. I feel like an asshole, because she's a lovebunny tabby who thinks I'm awesome, but I don't know what else to do. If I thought she'd settle down, I might wait her out, but the clawing is painful and unsanitary, and if she got underfoot at the wrong time, it could cause a dangerous fall.

This is awful because I've wanted a companion for eons, and the kitten wants a loveboddy so badly. It should work, but it isn't, and I wish it could turn out differently.

Maybe I should try a guinea pig.