I adopted two cats!
My transformation into a crazy old cat lady is nearly complete. All I need is about three more and fifty years and that should do it.
But seriously.
My husband and I had been talking about getting a pet for our daughter to grow up with. I'm unsure if it's the fact she's a kid or because she came from my genetic material but she loves animals with a burning passion. We discussed a dog but ultimately decided on a cat since we're both gone for long hours from the house at work and, although we have a large yard, we don't have a fence.
Two days ago, we headed down to our local no-kill pet shelter. They had a whole room-area blocked off where you could play with the kitties available for adoption. I was in heaven. One kitty, Cannaday, approached us and was very warm. I also loved another cat, Missy, who was a fat blob of love. She was one hunk o'kitty. I wanted to cuddle her all day. My husband lovingly referred to her as "fat-ass kitty".
We went home after filling out an application.
After finding out we were approved, the three of us headed down to the shelter today. My daughter immediately bonded with Missy. The two of them fell in love through the bars. I was still loving on Miss Cannaday and having a tough time making a decision. Missy was ready to clobber my toddler child with love and possibly knock her out with her royal fat-ness.
We were ready to tell the volunteers we'd found our match when we found out that Missy was one-half of a bonded pair. If we were to adopt her, we'd have to take her less-than-pleasant sister, Sissy. My daughter seemed to really like Sissy as well, bringing her offerings of kitty toys. We talked it over and decided we'd take the sisters, even though we hadn't planned on more than one animal friend. I felt extra guilty when I found out Cannaday had been at the shelter the longest of her roommates - 6 months. I couldn't figure out why no one had taken her home and I longed to take her too.
Missy was easy for the shelter volunteer to get into a box. Her sister, on the other hand, was less than cooperative. She didn't want to be picked up, even when she was blinded by a thin blanket. The volunteer even tried picking her up by the scruff of her neck, but she was finding it difficult due to the fact she had a fat neck like her sister. It was obvious who had been getting the extra kitty treats.
Twenty minutes later with no success, my husband and I exchanged looks. I wasn't feeling very certain about this decision. My daughter was having a fit running back and forth on the outside of the caged room, trying desperately to let me know there was a "kee kee" stuck in a "baux". I wasn't paying attention until we all heard it - Missy had torn her way through the box, angry and annoyed. I can't say I blamed her. She would have been home with us at that point if it wasn't for her stubborn sister.
While one volunteer went to get a new box, the first one turned to us and said, "You know what? I'm willing to let Missy go without her sister. I don't want to deny her a good home because Sissy won't cooperate."
I was feeling relieved of her decision because I was sure I didn't want a cat that could possibly attack my daughter.
As we were getting the paperwork together, one of the volunteers said, "You know, you were willing to take a second kitty home and I know you really bonded with Cannaday........."
Dot dot dot
Awkward silence.
Oh hell, why not?
We boxed up Miss Cannaday and within five minutes we were on our way. Each cat cost us $30, so $60 for the pair, but that included all up-to-date shots, de-wormings, de-other bad stuff and even micro chips. What a deal.
On our way out the door, I asked a volunteer what the cats' stories were. Apparently Missy and Sissy were in the shelter for a while until an old lady took them home. Within a year, the old lady died and the cats had to be returned. Cannaday was found in the basement of an abandoned house after someone heard kittens crying. She was in there, dirty, with six kittens to feed. The people who found her apparently took the kittens and turned Cannaday in to the shelter. That was nice of them. The shelter automatically fixes all animals they get so we didn't have to worry about either of them getting loose and adding to the cat over-population problem.
So here I am, typing this update with Cannaday lying next to me on the couch.
Missy hasn't moved from under my daughter's bed since we got home. I nudged a bowl of food under the bed in case she needed a midnight snack.
Which I'm sure she will.
Ha, fat joke. See, I can make that joke because I'm fat.
You shush.
Anyway, both cats will warm up to us. Cannaday's already doing great. I'm thinking about changing her name to Caroline.
Here are their photos from the shelter's website:
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| Cannaday looking like me when it's that time of the month and I'm just not dealing with your bullshit. |
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| Cannaday practicing her eavesdropping |
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| Missy being an adorable fat-ass |
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