Sleepover

Dear Wiley,

You are a tiny little handful. You fit perfectly in my hands, all 13 ounces of you, and can sit on the top of my size 10.5 foot, but you are a handful! You slept with me last night. Auntie Lolo said you're not an allergen machine yet and your siblings needed some alone time with Dad, so you spent the night with me. 

When we went to sleep, you were curled up in my left armpit. I woke up at 3am with you crawling around inside the covers at my feet. As is quickly becoming our routine, I scooped you up, dropped you in the litterbox to see if you needed it, offered you food, and then plopped you back in bed with me. Three house later, the same routine. Another hour later, same story. You just want to play, and let me know you're hungry by trying to bite off my lips and nose. Silly boy, don't you know you can get your food any time?!


You have also discovered the world's best hiding spot- the furthest corner underneath my bed. You crouch back there and mew, but come out if I call to you enough. In general, you just like to explore. Crawling over everything, especially me, back and forth, huddling under the foot of the bed to plan your attacks on my feet and just generally being cute.


The medicine from the vet is working! Your eyes are cleared up, so hopefully we can avoid that nasty step of eye drops soon. I'm also doing my best to make you eat real food, not milk from a bottle, even though I still think that's the cutest thing ever. 


You were insistent on playing on my keyboard today, so here's what you said:

X999uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu\

‘.;…………bcv     sssssssssssssssss

Love you too,

Mom

First Vet Visit

Dear Wiley,


Thank you for not hating me.


I know that's probably hard, given that you got violated seven ways to Sunday today, had dewormer shoved down your throat and ears cleaned out with q-tips that I swear reached your tiny behind, but I promise it was for the best.


The mites are out of your ears, the worms should stop their feasting soon, you don't want to hear this, but a Dawn bath in your future will help kill the fleas until you get bigger and older, and you might keep gaining weight being less of a parasite host!


As of today, you're 13 oz! That's a whole ounce added since Sunday night, but you should be gaining one a day right now. Hence... killing all the parasites! You might have lost a half ounce :/


We're going back in 4 weeks. You'll like me even less that day, because I fear there will be shots and more violating! But like I said, I do it because I love you. Healthy you, happy me :) I'll clean out your eye boogies and rejoice in your poops, but in return, stay cute and fluffy and keep growing into my strong man!


Love you,
Mom

A Man's man

Dear Wiley,

You're definitely not a man yet. You've got all your parts (for now!) but your dad is smitten! He's tried to deny it, but you should see yourself, crawling all over him. We went on a family outing to Petsmart since I broke your bottle. Sorry about that. Anyway, Dad carried you all the way in the car and the store, and he loved every minute of it. The salesgirl was so excited to help us, swap stories, and assured us we could keep you sweet and cute forever. So please, remember that!


When I wondered during the day about how you were doing, Dad told me you'd eaten lots when he stopped in on you before he went to his dentist appointment. He even cleaned out your eye boogies. Yep, that's when I knew he was hooked!


So far tonight, Wiley, you've played with Dad, fallen asleep on him in the car mid-attack, eaten the food he's force fed you, and then used him as your own personal snack tray. You even climbed on him a bit when we laid down, because heaven knows I wouldn't put you to bed yet!


Dad says he can't believe how much cuteness is wrapped up in such a small package, and I love it :) 


Now, a word from you:


\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\;\\\\\


Love you too,
Mom

Its been 50 hours

Dear Wiley,

Its been 50 hours since Grandpa Mike said "just you wait and see what we have for you!" Your dad and I went to your grandparent's place for the weekend and were so excited to see the baby ducks, chicks, seven newborn puppies and not one but TWO litters of kittens! 


What nobody expected was for you to be one of the two kittens still alive from your very young mom's first litter, and that, at four weeks old, she would decide to focus on, well, not you. That's where Grandpa Mike stepped in, saw me, and realized he could throw me into your arms, see if you'd last the weekend.


Wiley Mew, like I said, its been 50 hours, and you're still here, munchkin! We called you "Mew Mew" on Friday night because that's allll you did. After some quick googling, I realized you weren't getting as much milk as possible out of your bottle, so I cut another slit in the nipple for you and gradually, the "Mew! Mew!" turned into just purring.  


There's lots of stories I'll keep telling you about your first few hours, days, and weeks with us, but I just want you to know that right now, I'm claiming today as my first Mother's Day, at least pet-wise. In 50 hours you've turned from a helpless ball of mewing fur to a slightly-less-helpless fluffball that eats and drinks lots of food and milk, tries to run, gives up and just claws at and bites everything in sight, drinks more milk and finally snuggles up any good place you can find. 


Love,
Mom