The Love in your Heart wasn’t put there to stay, Love isn’t Love ’til it’s given away.♥
See this little kitty-in-the carrier? He came home with us today! ♥
He’s only nine weeks old. I’d been wanting a new cat for quite awhile; I always have at least two cats, sometimes three, and now I have only one; I felt like Girl Kitty needed a friend. So a few days ago I called the animal shelter in Edgartown, to see if they had any kittens. They didn’t, but they told me they would put me on a waiting list and let me know if one comes in.
I thought it might be months before I heard from them . . . but then, yesterday afternoon, Lisa called from the shelter and said they had one; a male, black and white, “tuxedo.”
I said to her, “Oh good, how wonderful, I’ve been thinking my older cat needs a playmate.”
Lisa said, “It doesn’t often work out that way, but they’ll get along after a while.”
I hung up the phone feeling a little bit worried.
So I Googled: “How to introduce a kitten to a 10-year-old cat.” And discover it’s not as simple as I thought. After reading pages of expert advice, all suggesting that the older cat (Girl) is not going to be happy about this; we will need to keep them apart until they have time to get used to each other; and how important it is not to disturb Girl Kitty’s routines; it was much more complicated than I’d imagined. Not the vision of feline harmony that I’d hoped for. I’m disappointed, but I think perhaps we should say no to this new kitten. I don’t want to ruin Girl Kitty’s life!
But, after all, we did ask the shelter to save us a kitty; it can’t hurt to at least go look at him. It might even be rude not to.
Just in case, we better put the cat carrier in the car. Probably won’t need it.
We drive into Edgartown. On the way, Joe says, “What do you think you’d want to name him?”
I smiled, “I was thinking about that this morning. I don’t know; I wouldn’t want to name him Man Kitty again.” (I’ve named all my male kitties “Man Cat,” then call them by nicknames: Mr. Momo, Momita, Mannie, Manita, Moesome ♥).
“How about Livingston?” I suggest, “then when we see him we could say ‘Livingston, I presume.’ “
Joe says, “But Man Cat’s a good name; at least it’s easy to remember.”
I say, “Yes, that’s for sure, OK, we’ll just name him Man Cat. It’s probably best.”
Joe says, “How about Jack? You could name him Jack.”
I say, “Jack? Jack! I like it! We can name him after my dad. Jack, Jackie, Jackarina, Jackolantern; it works! “
By then, the inner me was saying, People do it all the time, get a new cat, it’s not impossible, we can do this.
And then we arrive at the animal shelter, and we see him for the first time, with his funny French mustache, a face only a mother can love, and his look that says, I really want to go home with you and live with you for the rest of my life; pick me.♥
I’m thinking, this is a very cute kitty. And then he lifted his head, and the temporary collar he was wearing around his neck had something written on it.
The women at the shelter had named him Jack.
The end. ♥
There was never any choice really. It was meant to be.
Girl is still Queen of our Bed; we’ve given Jack the Peter Rabbit Room for the time being. I visit him there every hour or so; I roll his furry self around and around in my hands. He loves it. He turns on his back for more. I’m already madly in love. Wish us luck that he stays healthy, that he won’t play “Tarzan” in the Christmas tree, that Girl Kitty learns to tolerate him someday soon, and that he lives with us forever. ♥