It all started innocently enough. The kids and I went to the pound, picked out a kitten and named her Sneakers. She was precious, and we loved her dearly, until she went missing when we were on vacation in 2003. Such Sadness.
I, in my brilliance, somehow decided that the reason she went missing was because she was alone in the world. I figured if she had a companion, a fellow furry friend, they could have conquered the mean world together - bravely protecting one another from harms way. So, after a period of grieving, the kids and I went to the pound and picked out two kittens whom we named Boo-Boo and Tinker Belle. So then we had two. I was happy with two. Two was doable.
(Boo-Boo 2010. Yes, I know this picture is sideways. Please tilt your head to the right...a little more...there you go)
(Tinker Belle 2010)
Then I heard from a friend who told me that her friend found three helpless kittens. She said that if they didn't find homes the kittens would go to the pound and that the pound had already told them any kittens brought in would be killed. (I digress, but how can ANYONE have that job? Really. I can't even imagine.) I talked to my husband (did I mention he is allergic to cats?) and he said, rather generously, "What's one more?" ...and then we had three. Twinkie, so named because she looked like the sugary treat - and was just as sweet, joined our family - hitting the motherload.
(Twinkie 2010)
Three was still doable, but was certainly, most definitely, enough. I could tell people, "We have three cats and two dogs" and not feel certifiably crazy (especially living on an acre of land.)
Until something furry showed up smack dab in the middle of Mariah's bed.
(Ringo 2010)
I will be honest with you. I didn't want this full grown cat, whom we named Ringo, who decided that Mariah's bed would also be his. He meowed loudly and often, was not 'fixed' and wasn't even a kitten! The nerve. When I started softening, and told my husband he didn't have a home, he said, "Yes, he does. It's called the pound." :( I just couldn't do it. But I couldn't embrace him either. Yes, I fed Ringo when I fed the others, but I was not happy about the situation. After a year of denial - still believing that maybe he would 'go home' - I had him fixed and called him ours. He has grown to be quieter and is actually quite affectionate and lovable. So that was it. Four cats and two dogs. Finito. We actually had six animals for quite a long time. Yes, it was a lot, but it was also a lot of love.
Then in May of this year Mariah found the cutest kitten you have ever seen in our front yard. I was convinced it was put there by someone who saw the plaque my sister sent me that says, "All God's Creatures Welcome Here". (Hey, kitten dropper, I don't really mean it!) Anyway, guess what? I somehow found the strength inside myself to say 'no' to this kitten, whom we named Chester. One of Mariah's friends adopted him. Despite the fact that we cried and cried, I knew that it was the best thing. I grieved over the loss, but Chester is happy in his new home. I was quite proud of myself for saying no. I felt like I bravely staved off the dreaded "Cat Lady" label. I knew, just knew, that four cats didn't make me a Cat Lady, but that five would...and I felt good.
(Chester 2010)
Then -
In May our son left for Army Basic Training
In July our dog Persy, nearly 13 years old, passed away
In August our daughter left for college -
...and a week before she left she walked into the house with two black and white kittens that she found in our backyard.
I'm not sure why my reaction was so different with these two. All I know is that I immediately thought, "I have two more cats". I imagine it has something to do with the multiple losses I was experiencing and the fact that I wasn't willing to 'go there' emotionally. I know I am a Cat Lady now. I don't necessarily like the label, but have decided to embrace it. After all, each of these sweet precious animals was a choice made. A choice to welcome them in, and love them, until the end.
Jeeves and Fifi have made me smile when I feel like crying. They lie next to me when I am otherwise alone. They love me and I love them. I am glad I listened to my heart and said yes.
(Fifi and Jeeves 2010)
(Griffy 2010 - who loves them all)
Remembering Persy
August 1997 - July 2010
We adopted Persy from my dad after my mom died. Persy traveled in a UHaul from Arkansas to Arizona with my brother, Doug, and became a part of our family. He loved our kids more than you can imagine, and everyone who met Persy loved him as well. He was gentle, protective, patient, friendly and faithful till the end. I begged God to let him die at home, which he did on July 5th. There is a huge loss in our lives now that he is gone, but we are thankful for the many years we had him.
I won't always have seven pets. Sadly, each of these will pass on as well. The only thing I know for sure is that for the rest of my life I will always have at least one (okay, you're right...one or two).
