Almost daily, I hear: "I don't know how you work here, I'd bring everything home!"
The only thing that stops me from coveting everything coming in the door is the fact that I'm already at the legal limit of cats and dogs in my city. Caged animals don't count towards the total, so the ferret is a freebie. Plus, we foster, so there are usually kittens scurrying around getting into trouble. One time I fostered a pregnant guinea pig who gave birth to a whopping eight babies. Those who have never taken the time to flip over a female guinea pig and take a gander won't know that guinea pigs only have two nipples; she was an overworked mama! Anyhow, I'll save the story of OctoPig for another day.
Last summer, I had an ongoing request form left at work, just in case the cat of my dreams happened to come in. I dreamed of a gingery male orange tabby with classic markings and thumbs; a veritable lion with a huge head and shining green eyes. I wasn't in any hurry to find this cat, having two cats at home already, as well as the brindle boys, and (at that time) two elderly rats. The house was full, although not legally full, if you catch my drift.
And yet, somehow, my orange male polydactyly kitten became...
That's right. A three year old black female with no ears. Or tail. I was working in adoptions when she became available in our adoption center. I remembered seeing her over a month before when she came in, and had even written the name "Stubbins" on her card because I'd thought she was so cute. I'd lost track of her as she made her way through the building (it tends to happen, as we get between 30 and 50 animals a day), and I guess she'd spent some time out in the cat runs getting over an upper respiratory infection.
I'm a major sucker for the hard cases. Give me an animal with three legs or no ears or one eye and I'm happy. So this little gal finally made it up to adoptions, and I opened up her cage merely to say 'hello'.
That's IT. Just to say: "Howdy little cat, welcome to your last stop before you get out of this place!"
Stood there.
Petted her.
Smooched her ear nubs.
Felt a strange clenching in my heart.
Went and got my wallet.
Sometimes it just turns out like that!
I swore I'd never get another female cat. My gray tabby girl is nice to US (sometimes), but a horrible monster to everyone else. The brown tabby with white (also female) is our "invisible cat", in that you never see her. Occasionally you see big eyes and a streak of brown flying past. I find female cats to be very "on their own terms." They'll come to me for love (once in awhile), but if I initiate anything, they get horribly offended and run off in a flurry of lashing tails and flattened ears. Hence my dream of a cuddly, sweet male orange cat who would sleep curled up in my neck and follow me around like a ginger dog.
Like I said, things don't always turn out how you plan. So home came Stubbins; the total opposite of what I'd originally wanted. Her ears and tail were gnawed away by frostbite; further inspection revealed she'd had kittens in the past, and was missing several random toenails (frostbite again). This little gal had been through a lot before finding refuge. I set her up in our big walk in closet with a litter box, food, water, toy and blankets and shut the door so she could have some time to adjust on her own. Well! She wasn't having any of that! She waow-waow-WAOWWWed until I opened the door, and really hasn't left my side since.
Stubbins may not be a male orange tabby, but she is the little dog-cat I always wanted. She sleeps on my stomach at night (could be a smothering attempt, but I prefer to think it's love). She follows me everywhere, gives head-butts, chats, wrestles with the other cats, plays with toys, and cuddles like nobody's business. She may be missing a few appendages, but there's nothing wrong with her purr-box!
I shudder to think of what her previous outside life must have been like. For the first month, she would tear open garbage bags, try to climb into the open fridge, and snatch food out of peoples' hands before she finally realized that yes, there is enough food for her, and no, it's not going to run out. Her garbage-picking days are finally behind her.
Despite having her ass handed to her by Mother Nature, I still catch Stubbins trying to sneak outside when the door opens. Are you kidding me, cat? Outside is bad! Outside knocked you up and starved you and froze off your ears, tail, and toenails! She responds to my ranting with a half-lidded stare that suggests I may be mildly retarded. Frigging cats.
Awesome story!
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