I am not a cat person. There, I said it. I have not mentioned that fact on this blog to date as I was afraid of the backlash from all of you cat lovers. But for several years now I have avoided cats at all costs. I have enjoyed cats in the past, but after a few bad experiences I swore I would never again allow one in my house unless our family was eating it (okay – I did say that but I didn’t really mean it – mostly).
How could I not go see this little guy? Talk about a pathetic picture! And an adorable face! The next day Isaac and I were at the Humane Society checking out all the kitties. And sadly, there are MANY. We were even allowed out back where there are kitties who are not yet available for adoption as they require testing, surgery, or some additional attention, etc. The kitty that is pictured above was sweet to be sure … and so were so many other kitties … but none of them spoke to me … none of them tugged at me … which is exactly what I expected … as I was not searching for a cat … I simply wanted “Winston”.
But then … my friend Dawn (BHS worker) and I looked up to see this little lady:
… and I felt something. I am not entirely sure what it was. But it was good. So, Dawn took Isaac and I – and the kitty – into a visiting room. And we played with this little one for a bit. Isaac fell instantly in love. But as much as I felt something for her, I couldn’t just give into it so quickly and easily. I told Dawn we would be back within a couple days to visit with her again – with Halis and Meg as well.
Two days later we were all in the same visiting room again. And we were all falling in love. She was feisty, alert, independent, healthy, sweet, etc. I had no idea if she would become all the things I wanted from a cat – but I was willing to try. So, she came home with us the following day. And we named her Lyra – after the Incredible Hulk’s only daughter (of course).
The afternoon of her arrival, Isaac and I played on the floor with her for quite a while. She was/is hilarious. And that night, I slept with her on the couch. She is only 1lb and I was afraid she would get lost or stuck in some part of our house — so I snuggled with her on the couch — just the two of us. And I sobbed. I literally sobbed from the pit of my soul. I loved her. I needed her. I didn’t know how much I needed a cat. How much my anger and “hatred” of cats had nothing to do with cats — but had to do with the pain of losing my childhood feline companion — and of how much I missed her — and how much this sweet little kitty reminded me of her — and of how quickly and deeply I was falling in love with her — and how she was/is the exact description of the cat I told my friends that I might consider. She is my cat. I found her. And she is perfect.
She hangs out with me as much as possible. Yet she never begs anything of me. She sleeps with me each night. And she sits with Isaac as though they have known one another forever:
She even eats right along side him whenever he eats on the couch. Because she will eat right out of his own plate — I have to make her her own: