I realized today I haven’t told you the story of the boys!

When we first moved into our house in 2012, we only had three cats: sisters Ruby and Jude and outdoor Halle.

It was the Friday of the long weekend in August. I received a text from Dan that he had found two kittens, without a mother, in a pile of skids at work. It was late in the day, and the Humane Society was already closed. Dan’s boss suggested we watch the kittens for the weekend, and as soon as he could, he’d ask his son, who was on vacation, if he wanted them for his children (this should have been a sign).

Dan brought the kittens home, and boy, were they ever tiny. One orange, one black. Blue eyes (this should have been sign number two).

Excited, wanting to cuddle a kitten, I sit in the chair, take the black one and put him on my lap. He lays on his back for belly rubs, and that’s when it happens. He pees. And pees, and pees, and pees. And I realize I’ve touched his bottom in the petting process, triggering him like when Mama cat licks him. These are days-old babies.

Fun fact about cats – in the first days of life, Mama will lick the kitten’s bottoms to stimulate the urge to use the bathroom (for better lack of words). I was now Mama Cat.

And they were covered in fleas.

What a shit show the next few days became. Not only was I feeding two kittens every few hours, but I was also stimulating them shortly after feeding so they would pee and poop! Luckily, the stimulation only lasted a few days, and the kittens started to function naturally.

Tuesday rolls around, and the boss’s son is back. Surprisingly (not), he doesn’t want two kittens. Now what? How can I take two kittens to the Humane Society after rubbing their butt for 4 days?! We’re pretty bonded at this point. We tried to rehome the orange one, but no luck.

We now have five cats.

Then we named them, and it was official. They were ours. Introducing Simon (orange) and Spencer Davis (black).

Shortly after they arrived, I took them to the vet for a check-up. Our vet said they were lucky to be alive because, in that situation, kittens rarely live. Two gold stars for me!

It was similar to having a baby, the schedule they kept, I mean. I was only working three days a week at the time and obviously couldn’t take kittens to work – so off to Grandma’s they went to be cared for. Luckily, this didn’t last long either, and the boys started to eat wet food.

Hand-raised cats are special. The bond is different. The boys and I are very close. We have cuddle time every night at bedtime. Simon sleeps under my side of the bed and we start our morning together every morning. And Spencer curls up with me most nights. Hand-raised cats are needy! They love attention and ours are very affectionate.

And that’s the story of Simon and Spencer. The boys that lived! And still live happily thirteen years later. They’ve been a handful ever since.