Alright, babies.
We will let you set some ground rules.
We will not call you “cuter than chipmunks in bonnets” in front of your cool friends.
We will not make you attend any teddy bears’ picnic.
And, although your names are Jam* and Jelly, we will preserve your right to remain wild.
The idea of a “domesticated cat” is a bit of fluff that humans made up. We have not domesticated you. We have not even decaffeinated you.
The most marshmallowy mush-mouse always remains a lion. The little loaf making muffins in our lap is still a jaguar, never a mascot.
Even Baby bears more in common with a tiger than a sofa, although some things must be taken on faith.
Most cats realize they are dealing with mere humans. They let us keep our fairy tales. Oh yes, we are mighty tamers. Sure, we coax leopards and lynxes down to size. You bet, our treats turn cheetahs into fat Cheetos, puffy and purring with no memory of the wild.
But they all remember the wild.
And you, Jam and Jelly, will not let us forget.
You came to us like two pinches of allspice, fresh enough to make our eyes water. Jelly, your eyes did water. With a goopy infection and a strangely short tail, you were too tired to enjoy toddlerhood.
You and your brother knew nothing of pattycake and carefree naps. Born outdoors, dodging danger among construction equipment, you learned to sleep half-awake.
And then, you came to a mad tea party called Tabby’s Place, where everyone called you babies.
No matter how much you hissed and spat, the sweetness kept pouring. You scratched, but the scarred hands healed you anyway.
It was as though all these people were made of pudding. Clearly you were dealing with a flotilla of love-fools, cream pies walking around on two legs.
When you swatted and growled, you were only stating the obvious: “We’re not babies. You’re babies.”
You were right, of course. At least, half right.
We understand. We have been underestimated, too.
It is a lonely thing to live with an open heart. People (not cats) may assume you are as boneless as a glob of marmalade, as weak as a cucumber sandwich with the crusts cut off. People (not cats) may think that to be tender is to be tame.
But there is nothing wilder than to love with your eyes open.
The only creatures brave enough to do that are babies.
Your foster family may have looked like full-sized adults. But it takes the heart of a child to take home striped strangers who look like sealed jars of fear, and still believe your love can loosen the lid.
The Tabby’s Place staff may appear to wear grown-up pants. But only babies are big enough to become family to tabbies too tough to be cuddled.
Our volunteers may seem to be “adult people.” But that is an even funnier term than “domesticated cats.”
Only human kittens have enough wild innocence to spend hour after hour after hour after hour after hour on two feline kittens. They sprawl on the floor, blink into your eyes, and come back every day, because they have never outgrown love.
Our Behavior Team may look like experts. And indeed, they are. But they are also babies, stubborn believers that peace, presence, and playtime will get you gentle and giggling again.
And, Jam and Jelly, there is no sound on earth braver, wilder, or more wonderful than a kitten’s giggle.
Jam, big brother, you have been so strong, for so long. Since your days among the forklifts, you were Jelly’s solid ground.
Jelly, stoic little one, you survived more than many pumas could bear.
Now, healthy at last, you play like you’re making up for lost time.
You let us stroke your foreheads, first a little, then a lot.
Growing more childlike as you get bigger, you purr — not because you have to, but because you want to.
Jelly and Jam, fret not. Love will not steal your wildness. It will bring you treats shaped like stars and hold you like the best secret under the sky. It will honor your need to hide, and hear everything you have to say.
It will baby you in the bravest way.
The lid is off the jar.
The lions are out of the cage.
And love is large enough for every oversized kitten in the kingdom.
*Breaking news: Jam is now jamming in his forever home … can Jelly be far behind?