Tuesday, February 26, 2013


I never expected to be an adoptive cat mom. Yet today, a year later, that's what I am.

And although the circumstances in which Sweetie came to me were sad and less than ideal, in time we adjusted to each other and – dare I say it? – have learned to love each other.

I get up at 3 a.m. and throw her purple catnip mousie. She flops over the back of my legs when I’m sleeping on my stomach and warms me up. I keep her food and water dishes filled to the brim and her litter box sparkling clean. She lets me pick her up for hugs and smooches and will roll over for belly rubs.

I always wanted a cat, but haven’t ever been allowed to have one. I’ve always rented, and most landlords have a strict no-pets policy. But the ones I have now are reasonable. When they told me they had a prospective tenant for the other part of the house and she had a cat, I immediately said that was OK with me and asked if I could have one too. They couldn’t really say no and be fair about it.

There was one short-lived attempt with a shelter cat who was not particularly well socialized. Sweetie came along because she needed a home after her previous owner died. The woman’s daughter, a good friend of mine, thought Sweetie and I would do well together. She turns out to have been right (of course. R. has always been a good judge of character, either human or feline.)

It’s hard to overstate how much difference it makes to have another living creature in the house. I don’t have a spouse, or a kid, or any other form of family member living here. I don’t have a roommate (of the human variety, anyway). Even if she isn’t the same species as me, Sweetie’s still happy to see me whenever I get home. Even if she can’t talk the way humans think of it, she talks plenty – and chirps, and purrs, and has her whole own language with which to tell me what she wants. Sometimes all she wants is to nuzzle me and ask for a kiss back. I’m always happy to oblige (even if it means I get fur in my mouth).

I’m happy to have my curious, playful little furball around for company. If you’ll excuse me now, I’m off to the pet store to buy some treats (if not sweets) for my Sweetie.

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