We've been talking about getting a cat around here for ages. Tre's allergist said it would be fine, as long as the cat didn't sleep in his room, and we finished his room (enough) for him to move out of the living room a few months ago. And then...well, it just kept not happening. Busy, I guess.
Saturday I went to the local pet center, where they have cats available to adopt. I just went to see, you understand. Just to see.
I think what I always hope for when looking at animals to adopt is twofold: first, I want an instant connection, that spark of OH, this is my cat! Secondly, I want a story. Like Carmi. When we saw her in the shelter, they told us she'd been left there nine months earlier by a family going through a divorce. And since she was listed as a pit bull cross, no one wanted her. She was very very close to being put down.
So I walked over to the bank of cat cages on Saturday. Just to look. And a petite calico cat, curled up tight in her pink bed, glanced over her shoulder at me. She had bright green eyes, and I swear to you they widened as though in recognition. She meowed at me and I said hi back. We looked at each other for a minute, she pawed at the glass and I touched my side. Then I tried to move on and look at the other cats, but she kept following me with those eyes and I'm afraid I could not pick any of the other cats out of a lineup today.
I collared an employee to tell me about this cat. She was called Marie (clearly not her actual name), and she'd come from the Bahamas.
She'd been in a crowded shelter on Grand Bahama Island, and a rescue group had flown her to Colorado. "It's not a very cat friendly place," the young woman said grimly. They had her breed listed as Potcake, which as far as I can tell is what stray dogs and cats are called in the Bahamas.
I think she's lovely.
Do I need to tell you that we brought her home? Is that not already obvious?
She's fearful, and has spent most of the last day and a half under Max's bed (he is our resident kitteh whisperer). But despite her shyness, she is hungry to be pet, and if you are quiet enough, she will lean into your hand again and again and purrrrrr.
There's been much discussion about what her name should actually be. Suggestions have been "Martha" and "Jude" and "Lucy" and "Prudence" and "Good God, stop suggesting Beatles songs, WOULD YOU?" Max went through a heavy phase of insisting she should be called "Pious X" - as in the pope? Tre suggested "Malcolm X" for no better reason than he was researching him last night. Sophia is steadfast in insisting she is named "Angel Cat" because that girl is nothing if not cutting edge. I actually think Raphi has come up with the name that shall be The Name, but we'll wait until it's confirmed by final vote before revealing it.
She is easing her way out from under Max's bed, and he even coaxed her up onto his lap tonight, where she sat like a queen, radiating contentment and fur.
She does not usually shoot lasers out of her eyes at you, as it appears in this picture. Just so you know.
Today was a beautiful warm day, and this evening all the kids were outside. Sophia kept trotting inside with damp fist-fulls of tiny flowers for me. Just like this:
And I guess you could look at that as a palmful of allergens to share, but on some days it's easier to believe in something more hopeful.
We have a cat, and we're officially (finally) home.