I have always wondered if those “This animal needs a good home: visit your local animal shelter today” posters really helped animals find homes. Now I know that they do.
When Boomerang’s passing left Batman as the sole cat in the house, we hurried to get a second cat so that he would not get too possessive of the house. We decided that for the general peace of our feline family members, having at least three cats would ensure that (barring any major cat-astrophe) we wouldn’t be left with a single cat again. We’ve been planning to add for months now, but only very recently have we been thinking about looking.
At the coffee house by my oft-frequented knitting store, there is a bulletin board that always has fliers for one cat and one dog at animal control. I’ve watched them come and go for months, but recently there’s been a sweet grey and cream tortoiseshell kitty face pleading for a visit from me.
The day before my birthday I was out with a friend, and we decided to stop and see the cat we had both been talking about. She was pretty, with a sad history compounded by her strong fear and dislike of children and other cats. She’d been adopted out and returned twice, the poor thing.
Sadly, I had a very stringent list of what would be acceptible to bring home, and known children haters was right out, so I walked on to the other cages. Funnily enough, there were several other cream and gray tortoiseshells, which I haven’t seen in such concentrations before. The last cat I looked at was another one, but fluffy and tiny, and she reached her paw out to touch my nose. Skinny thing, a stray with no history, but completely content to snuggle in and purr and be poked and prodded and aw, to hell with the list.
I called Pat, called the landlord, and within 15 minutes had a brand new kitty. She had to get spayed, so she could not come home until Tuesday. I don’t think I realized how skinny she was until we picked her up post-op from the vet. I would have petitioned for her to wait on the surgery until she had gained a bit of weight, but the vet didn’t seem to be worried about it as she’s otherwise healthy.
She’s been crated to keep her separate from the other cats and so that we can keep track of her while she recovers. The first two or three days was pretty rough. Our house has been very cold, and she hadn’t been eating well. She would shiver within minutes of coming out of her bed to visit. I spent an entire day reading with her snuggled up in my stomach under the covers for warmth.
My boys were curious as could be as to the new arrival. All round eyes and inquisitive looks. The dog has been upset that she’s not allowed to stare, or snuffle all over the new cat, but all in all the residents have been pretty nonchalant about the whole affair. The (obviously still nameless) new cat has been a little intimidated, and hisses and growls if she’s anywhere near the other animals, but the dog keeps her distance, Batman makes himself as non-threatening as possible, and Tweed couldn’t keep his nose out of things and has been swatted twice and hasn’t wanted to risk a third altercation. They’ve all accepted her as a part of life for now, and their main interest in her is the fact that in addition to the raw offerings she gets the Forbidden Kibble and the Most Reverently Holy Canned Food, which she’ll stay on until she’s put on some weight before we go through the rigamarole of switching her to raw full time.