Got Cat?

We got a new kitten. After days of trying to find the perfect name for her, we decided on Emilie Mae. Emilie Mae has the sweetest disposition. I really wanted this little gray girl kit, but my husband decided he liked the little orange girl much better. We already had a big poofy orange boy, why not another orange one?

Emilie was timid in the beginning. The first night she hid under the dresser and hissed anytime I tried to get near her. The next morning, she was purring and ready to play. On the other hand, it took about five days for my current resident cat, Oliver, to get used to her. At first he was hissing and spitting and even taking cheap whacks at her head. He was not at all happy about this new little intruder. Gradually as Emilie was introduced to him during play time and turkey time, Oliver grew a little more interested and Emilie became a little more brave.

Here we are about two weeks to the day that we took little miss Emilie Mae into our home. Oliver has accepted his new gal and Philippe and I are so happy to see this new kit thriving in our home. Philippe and I were laying in bed and discussing our impending wedding for the coming year. We were going over the menu items for the food tasting at our reception place. Oliver is sitting on the bed, and Miss Emilie is happily cleaning herself. She's just licking away and taking her sweet ol' time. Then I saw "IT". I spotted this little pink 'nub' in the middle of Emilie's legs.

I sprang up. "Philippe! Did you see that!?"

"No, what?"

"Oh my god! Look!" I am pointing and pulling Emilie's legs apart. She seems a little offended, but continues to go to town on the nub.

"Are you sure it is a girl?" Philippe asks, dubiously spying the nub.

"Pam told me it was. She said she checked." I am astounded by what I am seeing.

"Maybe it is her sex organ?" I said, hoping it was. We had really wanted a girl.

"Well, that is some kind of cat clitoris!" Philippe said, shocked.

The next day I call Pam, the woman we got little Emilie from.

"I checked them! I swear! I am never wrong." She says laughing. "That's the one that was stuck in the wall for 12 hours when the vet came." She continues to laugh. My heart is dropping with each snigger on the other end. "The gray one is still available if you want to exchange it."

"No. We will keep...her...him...the cat." I hung up.

I was devastated. I called my husband next. "I need you to call the vet and ask them how they can tell if a cat is a boy or a girl."

"Can't this wait!? I am cleaning. It is only a cat." I hang up. I NEED answers.

As soon as I get home I dial the vet. I am looking for anyone to tell me that Emilie is Emilie and not Emilio. I finally get a hold of someone at my vet's office and explain the situation. She starts to laugh and says, "Well, if there is something pink and poking out, good chance it is not a girl. Why don't you come in and we can check...her...him...the cat out." Oh god. I make an appointment for the next Saturday. I can't wait to go to the vet. I have to know. NOW!

I google "how to tell the sex of your kitten". Oh my god, I got a hit the first time. Petplace.com was very thurough with their information. I even saw pictures. "Oh my god," I moan. There are very upclose and personal shots of male and female kittens in all their glory. I am looking at kitty porn. I quickly avert my eyes to the text: 'For male kittens, the space between the anus and the tip of the penis is longer than the space between the anus and the vagina. This extra space allows for the testicles to descend out of the body cavity and into the scrotal sacs later in life. After about 4 to 6 weeks of age, the testicles can be palpated. They would feel like small peas in the space between the anus and penis.' What? I have to feel? I have to molest my kitten? I groan again. I keep reading. 'For female kittens, since there are no testicles, the space between the anus and vagina is short. The shape of the vaginal opening is a vertical slit, unlike the small circular opening of the penis.' Right. That was very helpful. I peak around my computer and see my unsuspecting kitten askew on the window sil bed-thing. Right. I was going to have to grope my kitten. I start, cautiously, over to "the kitten" as I am now calling...him...her...the kitten. I think the kitten knows I am up to something. The kitten bolts. Great, now I am going to have to chase the kitten in order to feel the kitten up. Fabulous. I finally corner the kitten and speak softly, "Ok, little one, I am just going to check out your..er...space." The kitten mews. My heart breaks, but I must know!

I pet the kitten as I turn the kitten around and peer at it's rear. I eye it cautiously. I get in as close as I dare. I still can't tell. I don't understand the whole space between the anus and the other part. How can you tell without a comparison? Right! I turn to Oliver. He gives me the look of "Don't even try it, you cat molester, you." Then he bolts. I catch and roll him over. He bites me. It's fair. I think this is my ONLY warning. Let me sidetrack for a moment to describe Oliver. Big, fluffy, orange cat. Does not like to be groped. OK? Great, back to the games. As I am trying to get at Oliver's naughty bits, he decides this is not going to happen. I get quick flip and I swear he kung fu'd me as he took off running. Oliver was not giong to help me. I turn back to the computer. I am now looking very closely at the pictures. I still can't see it. Oh crap, I am going to really have to 'palpate...the space between the anus and..." Well, let's find out. I get the kitten back in my arms. The kitten is not falling for it this time. The kitten is mewing and purring and trying to distract me from the awful task at hand. I coo and attempt to calm the kitten. I get the kitten turned around. Oh god...I am feeling around in the general area of the anus, trying to stay away from the little brown eye hole peering right back at me. I can't feel anything. I am flumoxed. Each day I pray and hope that my kitten will still be an Emilie, but as the time to go to the vet for the final verdict grows closer, I know in my heart of hearts that my Miss Emilie Mae is naught. I have misnamed my kitten, groped it and done things I wouldn't trust a low class hooker to do. I am so embarassed, I'm ashamed to even look at the kitten in the eye.

I guess we will just have to wait until we go to the vet.

UPDATE:
When I brought the kitten into the Vet I explained the situation to the the Vet Tech. She lifted him up and immediatley started laughing. "Oh, he's PACKIN'"

We now have two wonderful BOY cats. Welcome Charlie!




















Charlie


Oliver