adopt a cat

It was a little rough, at first. I’d been planning to get a cat for a while, and had prepared myself for just that: a grown cat, with a fully-formed personality. I hadn’t prepared myself for a kitten. There were a couple of times when I truly wondered if I’d made a mistake. (Usually, I wondered that at about two-thirty in the morning, after three straight hours of being pounced upon, and no sign that she was tiring of the ‘game.’)

But the last few weeks, things have been better. She’s still feisty, to say the least – it’s exhausting to watch her – but she’s happy to spend hours curled up on my lap. She still wakes me up at night, but now she demands a few minutes of cuddles, then lets me go back to sleep. She’s still a kitten, but… she’s going to be a great cat, I can tell.

So, the plan was to go to some of the local shelters and take a look at the adult cats. There was never really any question – there are too many cats that need homes, and kittens… well, they’re pretty easy to find homes for.

That was the plan.

That wasn’t what actually happened. What happened was: I was offered a chance to take a look at a litter that was ready to go. And… well, the temptation proved a little too great. There is now a tiny little ball of black fluff trying to murder the curtains. She doesn’t have a name yet; I’m still getting to know her. (I’m leaning toward either Lucy or Olive, but given her ability to find all the impossible-to-clean nooks and crannies in my apartment, she seems to be campaigning for ‘Dusty.’)

It’s strange. I said I was ready for a new cat, but… I wasn’t expecting it to happen so quickly. A few days ago, this was all theoretical – I was making plans, but I didn’t have any sort of timeline in mind. All of a sudden, I’ve got a new kitten. And exciting as it is, as much fun as it is, I’m feeling kind of melancholy, too. I miss Tasha. There’s still a part of me that can’t imagine having a cat that isn’t her.

But it’s good. I feel a little better about it every day. It won’t be long before I can’t imagine not having this little one around, either.

I miss having a cat around. It’s been a little more than a year since Tasha died; she was one of those amazing, once-in-a-lifetime pets, and I still miss her terribly. But… I’m past the worst of it. I’m at the point now where I can think about getting another cat without feeling sad, or worrying that I’ll just compare the new cat to Tash.

I’m ready.