Kitten Tales - A Furry Little Star Is Born

This first hub is part of a series of four, and is written by my mom. By the way, I call my owner “mom”. I know it’s silly but nobody of any significance knows this so mom and I don’t worry about it

KC was born on August 8th, 1999. His mother had been abandoned in Burns Bog (a very large conservation spot outside Vancouver) with KC and his 2 brothers and 1 sister. His brothers were mostly black in colour, but his sister looked exactly like KC.

KC and his family (sans Dad) were taken to a pet store in South Delta (in a suburb of Vancouver) where they received great care and attention. KC and his brothers and sister received all their shots and proved to be in excellent condition.

Because he was so cute as a kitten, KC was the first of his siblings to be adopted. He went to the home of an elderly lady who adored him but found him to be a little too active for her. So she brought him back to the pet store. Lucky for me!

I went into the store on a whim – but when I first saw this little ball of white and black fluff, I fell in love! I thought I would prefer a female cat but when KC saw me he came right towards me. How can you ignore that! My elderly mother was living with me at the time so, of course, I brought him home for her (yeh, right!)

Although we don’t have pictures of KC when he was very small, a friend sent me these three pictures of Rocky who looks exactly like KC when KC was a kitten.

As you can see, he sure was cute. He had long fluffy fur, a big bushy tail and feet he had to grow into!

KC liked to do all those cutesy little things kittens do — like sitting on your chest and batting your nose. He also liked working in the kitchen with me. When he got tired he would snuggle up anywhere that was convenient for him. And he liked hiding in really small places — like behind the grate in the fireplace. And yes, he would come out eventually, all black and gray, no white to be seen! Although KC was very active he didn’t climb drapes or screen doors and he didn’t scratch furniture!

KC was a very gentle kitten but he liked to box with me! We would sit on the living room floor and exchange blows. I had to wear oven mitts to protect myself.

KC is a very special cat. I have loved him very much. Blessings, KC's mom.

KC speaking now:

If you are wondering how I got my name, and I’m sure you were, let me tell you, they call me KC Jones.

I got my name in a number of ways. The “K” stands for Kristofer and the “C” stands for Charlemagne. Now, I know I'm a noble cat. But, can you imagine being called Kristofer Charlemagne!! I had to insist they call me KC.

As I mentioned earlier, mom and her mother lived with me. At least, they lived there first then I came along. Because mom’s mother’s last name was Jones, they named me KC Jones. That’s a take-off of Casey Jones the legendary railroader known for his daring, bravery and his famous train whistle, and who sacrificed himself to save a town from a runaway train. I am humbled by the moniker.

And I do like trains. I've never actually ridden on one but I'd like to try the Bullett Train in Japan. So when you hear a train whistle--think of me.

Next Hub: I will tell you about my Blood Brother. Blessings, KC Jones.