How I did it: For my entire adult life, and possibly even longer than that, all I ever wanted was a cat. Not jewelry, or babies, or fame or fortune (well, a little fortune would be nice), just a cat. Actually, two cats to be accurate. Just two little kitties to love. My life would be complete.

I was the girl who fed strays, eyed kitten calendars, and ooh-ed and aah-ed at my friends' cats, teeming with jealously. Whenever someone adopted a new kitten, I was the first one over to meet the new fellow. And even though all my friends' cats were insane, I swore mine would be different because they'd be mine and they'd be loved.

But as much as I loved and wanted a cat, I knew that it wasn't the right time in my life. There was always an excuse: "I'm still in college; "I travel too much"; "my roommate is allergic." So I read my "how to raise a kitten books," and enviously awed over cute kittens on YouTube and waited. Just like a cat waiting patiently to pounce, I waited. And I swore that when the time was right, I'd be prepared. My greatest fear was to have a cat and not be able to take good care of him.

Finally, the winds of change calmed in my life. Things became slower, more steady. But still I waited, thinking, "if I've waited this long, I can wait a little longer."

One day this summer my boyfriend turned to me and said, "let's go to the pound and adopt a kitten."

I looked at him, searching his face for signs of sincerity. Slowly I said, "Are you sure you are ready to get a kitten? Because if we go to the pound I will fall in love with a kitten and if you change your mind I'll never forgive you because it will break my heart." In all honesty, I had been avoiding pounds and pet stores for this reason. I didn't want to fall in love with something I couldn't have.

So we waited and we talked. I asked him every question possible from, "what if it poops in your shoe?" to "what if we have a baby and the cat hates the baby?" I wasn't going to be a person who returned my cat because he became inconvenient. And we read articles on owning cats. And we budgeted our expenses. Until finally, it was time!

I went to the shelter early on a Monday to inquire about their adoption policy. I then went to look at the kittens and fell in love with a little gray boy with blue eyes and his little cage mate, a black and white tuxedo kitten with six toes on his front feet. I took a picture with my camera phone and sent it to my boyfriend. "We're going to the pound after you get out of work," my message said. The caption on the photo was, "take me home!"

We came back that evening to find that our little kittens had two more cage mates, a crazy orange tabby and a timid gray tabby. There was also a young man there looking at all the cats. I pointed to the little gray kitten and said, "him, I want him. I love him," and then I pointed to the six-toed kitten and said, "and his friend too. You can't separate them." 

My boyfriend, however, was keen on the orange cat, the newcomer, who didn't seem to get along with any of the other cats in the cage.

 "Orange?" I thought to myself. "Not as cute as the other two."

Plus, the orange cat was crazy! He walked right up to a pile of poo and stuck his nose in it! I like cats because they are clean and Orange Poo Cat did not seem like my kind of cat. He then proceeded to walk through the poo, walk over the other kittens with his poo feet, walk through their food with his poo feet. I did not like this little Poo Walker! But my boyfriend did. He said he had personality.

"No!" I said. "Gray cat and tuxedo cat! No one likes Poo Cat!"

In the middle of our discussion, someone came and took the gray kitten away. Remember the young man I mentioned a few paragraphs ago? Well, he must have loved that little gray kitten too, because he adopted him right as my boyfriend and I were arguing.

I was heartbroken. All I wanted was a little gray cat.

And then the shelter told us that they were closing. We missed our window. I took it as a sign. Maybe it's not my time yet.

A week past and we were still talking about the little poly-dactyl cat and Poo Walker. We made up scenarios of what it would be like if they were our cats. Poo Walker would probably terrorize Carter (I had already named the little black cat).

That weekend we went back. In my head I said, "if they are there, then it's meant to be!"

And guess who was waiting for us, tuxedo cat and poo cat, happy as can be. We took them home that day.

For the record, the orange cat, who we've named Emery (not Poo Walker, because who wants to be called Poo Walker's Mommy at the vet office?) is very clean and calm. The little black cat, Carter, is a trouble maker. He's a real pain but I love him just the same. And Emery, who I said wasn't cute at first, is growing into a very handsome cat with some very beautiful coloring, spots, and stripes.

 And the four of us love each other very much.

Lessons & tips: Do your research and wait until you are sure you are ready to handle having a new member in your household. Remember cats can live for 20-some years and will be depending on you for their whole lifetime. Ask yourself tough questions and be prepared to give honest answers.

Just let me note that even with all my research I failed to learn one important thing: kittens get diarrhea very easily. VERY. EASILY. In fact, there is a little bug called Coccidia which will make owning a kitten seem like the worse idea ever.

About 3 days after we adopted our little guys, they got very sick. Carter, because of his suppressed immune system, was VERY sick. In the first two weeks we spent about $1,000 on hospital fees and he wasn't getting better. We didn't get to enjoy them because we had to keep them locked in the bathroom and every hour go in with the disinfectant wipes and clean them up.

It was horrible. I thought he was going to die. My boyfriend, who I learned does not handle poo well (for all his enjoyment of Poo Walker's antics), wanted to return them for fear we got a lemon kitty.

The worse was, after taking him to the hospital because he was dangerously dehydrated, he had an accident in his carrier on the drive home. Then he jail broke out as I was driving. So not only did I have to deal with a poopy carrier, but I also had a frightened kitten with diarrhea running loose in my car! And while it's funny now, it wasn't when it was happening!

So think, are you ready to deal with a poopy, leaking, crying kitten that needs hundreds of dollars worth of medicine and fluids to live? Books don't tell you that but it's important to know and ask yourself before you get a cat.

Resources:

• The Internet! Google is your friend!
• Cat Forum.com : where I went when I didn't know when my kittens were going to stop pooping. Also where I go whenever they are doing something weird.
• Spray bottle combined with a firm "nuh-uh." I wanted to make sure that their "no phrase" was something that I would only say to them, as opposed to yelling "Noooo!" to the tv when watching sports.
• Petsmart, cat aisle. They are always friendly and give me great advice on what products work and which ones are a waste of money.

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Oct 12, 2009, 12:49AM PDT | 0 comments | 2 cheers