Wednesday, March 14, 2012

The Catervention


Last night, I was part of a Catervention. As informal as it was, I’m pretty certain that some detailed planning went into the entire thing.
My parents, husband, and I were cruising down the interstate, discussing fascinating topics like the weather and flatulence in the workplace, when the subject of my new kitten came up. They probably thought it was a casual turn in the conversation. I know better.
My love for cats has long been a source of contention in my family. During my twenty-nine years on this earth, there’s never been a time when I was catless. Growing up, my parents begrudgingly surrendered to my obvious need for feline interaction, but we rarely (see: never) had more than one cat at a time. They controlled my addiction as long as I was under their roof.
But when I wasn’t under their roof anymore, I entered the cat collecting phase of my life.
The first apartment my husband and I lived in didn’t allow pets. This minor detail didn’t stop me from moving my diabetic cat in with us. After she passed from an infection, Jeremy and I went to the shelter and rescued Kisa, our first cat together.
We lived in bliss with Kisa for a little over a year before deciding that we needed to rescue another cat: Sushi. Another year passing saw the rescue of Poe.
Up until last week, we were a three-cat household with no plans for expanding our family. Three cats was quite enough, thank you. The shedding. The litterboxes. The never-ending cycle of pouncing, napping, eating, and meowing. It had finally satisfied my yearning for cats. Finally.
The satisfaction lasted a whole year or so. Which brings us to present and last Friday, when a deaf kitten showed up on our doorstep, and I officially entered Crazy Cat Lady territory.  Hence the Catervention.

We’re pretty sure the kitten was dumped, cast off by a family who didn’t have the time or inclination to care for her. We live in a large subdivision, so what better place to dump your unwanted pets? I won’t get on my soapbox regarding abandoned pets today…but suffice it to say, it’s one of the things that make me fighting angry.
I was minding my own business, ironically writing a story about my Pawpaw and his love for cats, when I heard her desperate meowing.
She was curled up on the rug in front of our door, and when I opened the door, she didn’t even budge. Looking back, I should have known right away that she couldn’t hear me and that’s why she didn’t move, but we didn’t discover her hearing impairment until later that night.
Cat lover that I am, I immediately fell head over heels. She was tiny, still a kitten but at that stage where they look more like a miniature cat than a kitten. Golden eyes, black fur highlighted with splashes of gold. Adorable and sweet, so sweet.
Thoughts of “what are we going to do?” rushed through my head. We could take her to the animal shelter, leaving her with an uncertain future. We could advertise her on facebook to a handful of friends.
We could keep her.
I kept circling back to the keeping-her option. What can I say? I’m a sucker.
When Jeremy came home, it was probably already a hopeless case. By that time, I was pretty sure that she was deaf and that put another checkmark in the Keeping Her column. And unfortunately, Jeremy is also a soft-touch with no common sense when it comes to these sorts of things, so there was no one around to talk us out of what ultimately became our final decision.
Futilely, my parents tried last night, five days after Bast (named after an Egyptian goddess) entered our lives.
“We just don’t want you to turn into those women we saw on that Animal Planet Show the other night.” My mom pleaded. “You said you’d stop at two cats, then at three. We don’t want to watch you on Animal Hoarders one day!”
And I don’t want that to happen either, but I couldn’t possibly say no to that little kitten with the black fur and gold spots, especially considering we have room in our hearts and home for her.
Just say a quick prayer that no other strays show up on our porch, because four cats is our limit. No more after four…
Probably.


Linking up with the writers at yeah write once again!

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