Five years ago, we adopted Lavash (or, to give the proper Turkmen spelling, Lawaş. I usually use the English letters because it’s a confusing enough name as is).
Our previous cat, the Trinidadian Street Cat named Soca, had succumbed to urinary stones about three weeks prior. It was Labor Day, and my wife was teaching. I was at home, our nanny was on duty, and the kids were napping. If I remember right, I was baking bread. The embassy’s security officer, who also lived on the housing compound, knocked on the door. She also had a cat, and we had given her many of Soca’s things after he died. She just said that I had to see something. I walked with her to the other side of the compound, by where the warehouse was. She started calling for a cat, and out scampered this scrawny little thing with an eye infection (which you can see above). Even though we had brought some cat treats, this kitten was more interested in being held. She had a gigantic purr (still does, actually).
I took her home and put her in a room with a litter box. The kids were still asleep at the time, but I did run into my wife on her way home from school. We told ourselves that we would call the vet to get her eye taken care of, then “we’ll see.” If you know anything about kittens, you know what happened. Five years later, our Turkmen Huntress is still with us.
In the three week or so interregnum (or is that inter-cat-um?), mice had moved in to our townhouse. It didn’t take Lavash long to start catching them. She’s still an incredible hunter. When we lived in Alexandria and mice found their way indoors, she would catch them. Here in Liberia, we don’t have mice in the house, but we do get geckos. She goes after them, and catches them more often than not. I think she uses Benson to knock them off the wall, the she gets them when they try to scamper away. And yes, for all the hissing she did when Benson first showed up, they do get along now. At least, they take turns pounding on each other, which I guess is about what you can hope for with cats.