We almost brought home a new kitten from the Seattle Humane Society today. We were smitten with a striped, sleeping baby cat who was taking what looked like the BEST NAP EVER in her plushie bed. She was all stretched out, sleeping on her back, shaped like a half circle, nose in the air. We debated on whether or not we should meet her, my husband saying, "Don't be crazy right now, babe."
Me, being the crazy that I am, insisted on meeting her. She had just woken up a few minutes before we opened her cubby door, and she was a purring little furball. Her little feet kneading at the air. She was super cute and sweet, but my husband and I looked at each other and knew that it wasn't right.
It just wasn't the same as when we first met our Chloe girl. This is the story of how we met our precious angel best girl cat baby.
When we first moved to Washington, we spent one of our days off strolling Lake Washington. On our way home, I suggested we go to the pet store, just to see the kitties that were up for adoption. Just to take a little peek.
We saw an adult cat with pretty eyes through the window, and the volunteer asked us if we wanted to come inside. We went inside the cat corner, and she put the cat into my arms. That cat immediately jumped away from me, never to be seen again. That's when my husband swatted me to get my attention. He couldn't take his eyes off a little grey cat perched atop a kitty tower. I squealed from the sheer cuteness.
This little girl wanted to play. She was out for plays and already jedi mind-tricking my husband into initiating wand toy action. She was rough and reckless. She played hard. She played so hard that she fell of the top of the cat tower. That's when my husband-- out of pure fatherly instinct-- caught her with one hand. He held her with that one hand and looked up at me. This is it. Done Deal. She's coming home with us. It had been decided. She knew it, he knew it, and I knew it.
We filled out the paperwork, so giddy and excited, because we had just met the cutest girl and she was going to come home to live with us forevermore. It was love at first sight.
She did not cry once on the car ride home, not one peep. We named her Chloe. We opened her carrier in the bedroom, and she crawled under the bed. The adoption counselor told us to let her stay in an enclosed room to let her explore that space for a few days, and then slowly introduce her to the rest of the house. But Chloe the adventurer was keen on dominating the entire apartment within the first few hours. She was brave and made herself home right away.
We were obsessed. I woke up the next morning to see her sitting right by my pillow. I was suddenly hit by the pungent smell of poo. She walked away, and when I lifted my head to examine the spot she had previously occupied, there was a tiny, unmistakable butthole kiss stain of poo on the bed sheet. She looked back at me as if to say, "Yea, I left some poo there on your bed. It'd be great if you could go ahead and take care of that for me. Thanks." This was my new life as a cat mom.
Many scratches and stains later, I am reminded of just how special our connection was with Chloe from the very beginning. She is now queen of this household. Commanding me for food. Throwing up on the carpet. Claiming freshly laundered clothes as her bed. Scratching our feet if they peek out of the blanket. Slapping my face if I ignore her. And though we do eventually want to bring home a feline companion for our girl, we have high standards, and it's probably going to be a while before we find perfect cat number 2. I mean, it's not everyday that the cutest cat in the world just falls into your hands. Literally.