327: more neighbors

Our neighbor two doors down brought a box of kittens home from some get-together: the story apparently is that the mama kitty was hit by a car, and this elderly couple had the kittens and were just going to let them be, let them die. So my neighbor two doors down collected the kittens, bought some formula, and worked on nursing them herself. These polydactyl kitties (so adorable with their six-toed feet) were desperately mewling one day on the porch of our shared neighbors when Ryan and I came home from errands: Melissa, mama of Bailey, called us over and I spent the afternoon cooing over the brown tabby, which I attempted to adopt, but Ryan, being logical, pointed out that we have two older cats and two younger dogs and our house is fairly full and covered in fur as it is. I didn't need an adorably needy kitten whose feeding schedule was that of an infant--especially just before I left for Bread Loaf and couldn't simply skip home and feed it every two hours. But mostly, when I took the kitten inside, Libby and Gatsby, who adore one another and sleep twined quite often, hissed and spat and battered at my hand and made it clear that, unless I was willing to introduce the kitten the way I'm supposed to, there will be more more furballs in the house.