Love at First Purrrrrrrrzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…
Okay, so this is my second rescue-related post of the week. I went and met Roger the other day at the MSPCA in Methuen, and although I really loved the guy, I knew he just wouldn’t be a fit for the house - in some respects literally - and so I left Nevins farm feeling not elated, but bummed out for all the cats left without a home to call their own. Rescue facilities are a wonderful thing, but the reality of so many pets without families to care for them is heart-breaking for a bleeding-heart such as myself who beeps to get the pigeons out of the way when she parks, stops the car to usher bunnies off the street, etc.
I came away with the conviction that I wanted to rescue a pet. Eddie and I had one last talk about the reality of bringing home a new family member. He had three stipulations:
- That it be a kitten, so he could bond with it.
- That it be a girl, because his tom-cat experiences were less than stellar.
- That we name her “Jaws”.
I’m still working on that last one, but I set out to the local Humane Society today to check out what they had for kittens. After going to the PAWS event at Petco and to to the MSPCA after that, I didn’t hold out any expectations of finding a kitten, of filling out an adoption form… certainly not of falling instantly in love, (although isn’t that the best way to lose your heart?)
But this little girl? She had other plans.
It was pretty diabolical actually, the way she snuck in. I picked her up, she gave me a look that said “Okay. You look like a pushover.” and promptly conked out in my arms, with her chin propped up on my hand. She had a big-block motor that wouldn’t stop running, and that was it. Love at first narcoleptic, adorable, snoozy sight. A few of the people in the room said “Yep. That’s it!” and they were right!
I got an application from the girl at the desk, and jokingly said “I told my husband I was going to go out and find an adorable little ball of fluff. He said that would be okay.” She laughed, “Well that’s exactly what you found!” I looked at the application. Her foster name? “Fluff”. As if the deal needed any more seal, that did it.
I tried to fill out the app while simultaneously not waking the fuzzball. It was at that very moment she decided it was time to play, and proceeded to tap-dance on the clipboard, boogie up my shoulder, head-butt the pen, check out the chair next to her, consider a run across the room. I finally relented and had to put her back in her “house” for a moment. I snapped the above shot just as she decided it was time to pick a fight with the sign of the front of her cage. I hurried through the paperwork, handed it to the girl at the desk, and presto-chango, became the proud owner of the most adorable cat in the world. I didn’t think it would be that easy actually! I think they were impressed by my neat handwriting or something.
I spent another half-hour playing with Not-Fluff-Not-Jaws Cianci (although Ed still thinks that we could name her Jaws. Could you name that adorable little fuzzball Jaws?! C’mon…) She was over the need to beat the hell out of the sign, and decided another nap was in order. I had found myself a snuggler. When she was hungry and ready for some down-time, she let me know by giving me the long “hellllooooo??” stare, and poking me a few times with a paw to make sure I were still with the program. She already knows how to handle me. I have no doubts she will beat any alarm-clock money can buy.
So sometime Wednesday, after a visit with the vet for all the necessary poking and prodding, Not-Fluff-Not-Jaws will be coming home to explore the wild world of Casa Cianci. Until then, I’ll will be kitten-proofing, shaky-toy shopping, and getting the camera ready for pictures of kitty’s first day in her forever home.
