The Serendipitous Cat

[damselfish]

Yesterday I didn't have class until 2, so I decided to check out the store I'd been recommended for freshwater supplies-- a Pet Supermarket on 137.* I get to 117 and see Pet Supermarket, and I doubt there'll be another one in two miles, so I stop there. It wasn't the place I was looking for, but as I head out, the cat-for-adoption meows at me.

I can usually ignore the cats-for-adoption. Or I'll look at them, go "awww cute" and walk away 'cause Lord knows, I'm not suited to pet ownership. So I walk over to the cage and wait for the cat to meow again just to verify I'm not hearing things. Cats don't like me all that much, and that's okay with me, because I'm less tempted to bring one home. Not so with this cat, she comes on over and loves on me and reaches through the cage to grab me if I pull away. She's a five month old tortie, and very adorable. I figure, well she's attention-starved, she'll reach for anyone, animals don't like me all that much.

Four other people approach the cage to get her attention, and she just looks at them blankly. "Okay, cat, you're adorable and you're five months old, you're gonna be adopted in a flash. I'm walking away now."

But I make a big mistake: I ask someone working there how long the cat's been there. "Oh, a while" my heart sinks "three days."

Phew! That's nothing. My mom adopted Miss Sarah after she'd been at the adoption center for nearly a year (unwanted cats are inexplicably the best cats; Miss Sarah is a tiny little thing who greets me at the door when I visit and is boss of the house despite being the smallest cat there). This cat will be adopted in no time!

"The cats she came in with were adopted that night," the employee goes on. "People don't want her because she's a black cat."

Heart sinks again. I leave and call my grandmother, then Pocket Healer, for opinions (see: talking down). I am told of all the reasons I already have for not getting a cat. The smell, the mess, the possibility of poop or puke on my nice things, the claws, all my knick-knacks.... I feel relief. That's right! I love the zen-like stillness of my condo, of stepping inside and there being nothing there that needs my attention. It's quiet, it's clean, it's tidy, it's the most peaceful place I have ever carved out for myself. Yes, that's right. Then I call my mother. I already knew that she'd say I omg needed a cat, so I didn't call her first because I don't need enabling, I need rationality. In with all the usual cringe-y "catmommy" and cooing, lovey-dovey blather (sorry mom, that stuff makes my skin crawl) she points out that by five months, cats age out of the kittenish desirability, and torties are almost as hard to adopt as black cats. We have four black cats in the family, plus a tuxedo, and they are always awesome cats, but they make people flip out. I don't know why five months is too old, it's the perfect age: still small and super cute, but you actually see individual personality, and they're more self-sufficient than a kitten.

No, stand strong. That cat charmed everyone and tons of people had to go wiggle their fingers in her cage, she'll be fine!

I drive to class and start to realize... that was The Cat. I knew, eventually, The Cat would find me. I come from a very long line of cat-lovers on both sides of the family, I am the only person left who does not own a cat. Wednesday, my supervising attorney found out I did not have any animals, and was agog at the prospect, and propounded the benefit of cats. Everyone thinks I should have a cat, except me, and my opinion is the only one that matters, but I knew, one day, it would almost certainly happen because, ultimately, I'm a doormat.

Six hours later, I return to Pet Supermarket. I pay a truly paltry sum, write my name and address a few times, and take a cat home.




The picture I took in the store and sent to people while I should have been paying attention in Florida Constitutional Law. Everyone agreed: she's a gorgeous cat (so why people wouldn't adopt her, I do not know). My mom says we have the same expression. I think she's delusional. I also have no idea what's going on with the perspective on my hand there, maybe cats turn me into the mutant supervillain Ham Hands.


I set her up in the half-bath/powder room after a long drive home filled with truly piteous crying. I know the cries are meant to tug on the heart-strings but I can't steel myself against them. When I had to leave for the night, she could see me under the door and cried, so I had to hang out in the bedroom for a while. When I left for Starbucks this morning to write, she cried because she could hear me on the phone with mom, and I felt horribly guilty leaving her closed in the little half-bath. Anyway, on first arrival she was terrified for about 30 seconds and then demanded attention. I think she's still scared because her breathing is quick, despite purring and sleepily kneading me.


She only wanted to be in my lap if the computer was already there. Most cats get tired of me after a few minutes of petting, but not this cat. I chalk it up to nerves, still, she's pretty uneasy and spends some time hiding behind the toilet or sink podium if I move something or stand up. But she recovers quick and curls up next to me. Or expresses disapproval of teleidoplex. Ewwwwwwwwwww.


So that's the cat. I don't have any names for her yet, as I do not have the naming magic. Knowing me, though, she'll probably end up being Tort, because she's a tortie and torts is one of my favorite subjects (I am, apparently, a born ambulance chaser), and it's just such a good word to say.

*Turns out I was looking for Petsmart on 137, and it really does have the best freshwater fish set-up I've seen... anywhere. They had appropriate plant-growing substrate and I their plants-in-tubes are labeled as semi-aquatic if they don't belong in an aquarium. Most other stores sell them and don't warn you that the plants they're selling with the aquarium supplies die if left submerged. They even had plants I was actually looking for, like windelov fern.