Monday, December 2, 2013

The Shrimp

Dear Humane Society of New York,

It was a lousy, wet spring day and over four months since we said goodbye to our beloved Wobbles, a special needs cat that had stolen our hearts.  I was really on my way to the gym but the lingering effects of a migraine left me feeling less than motivated and I detoured to your doors.  I had been logging on to your web site for a month but just couldn't get the courage up to visit in person, knowing that the tears would come and knowing that meting any of  your cats would only serve to remind me that Wobbles was gone, and that he was irreplaceable.  It's not like I hadn't tried to fill the void by spending time with other peoples' cats, but every time I just felt nothing.

I can't say exactly why that was the day, but I think it was just that I could't imagine feeling worse and I was so tired of feeling sad.  As I filled out the paperwork and waited to meet Bonnie for the first time I think I almost bolted for the door at least three times.  When I did meet her and stumbled to explain what brought me, the tears came as predicted and Bonnie was beyond wonderful.  I think within five minutes of meeting me she had me pegged and knew which cat would eventually be coming home with me, though I was still unconvinced any cat would be coming home at all.  A little female cat (I wanted a boy), only nine months old (I wanted an adult), with a name I couldn't bond to, but at least she was black.  I didn't even hold her that day as she had just had medicine applied.  We just looked at each other, and I wasn't entirely sure I would come back.
I think I looked at this picture a hundred times.  And I came back.  And I held her, and for the first time in months I didn;t feel awful.  My husband R, who had never cared for cats before Wobbles happened into our lives, reminded me that he was not a "cat" guy...he was a "Wobbles" guy...and though he would be supportive in any way I needed he warned me not to expect too much.  He asked if I was going to let this "impostor" play with Wobbles' toys, and as we put away the last of this thinks I cried some more and questioned how fair it would be to this little cat knowing  how much we still missed our W.  I just reminded myself how many cats were there waiting for a home, and that here was a home in desperate need of a cat and I pushed forward.  

The first few days were a little rough, and as this little tiny thing cowered and his I think R's heart melted.  
Fast-forward a few weeks and she was tearing around the apartment.  She had spent most of her life in a cage she would play until she was panting, tongue hanging out, mouth wide open like a dog at least once or twice a day.  She made it her mission to knock over every single water bottle she could get her paws on, knocked over the garbage every night, and played in the toilet whenever we forgot to put the lid down.  This little impostor was a handful and eventually earned the name Imp, but she hasn't really grown much and gets called The Shrimp most of the time! 
She wouldn't let us hold her for months, but followed me around the apartment chirping and meowing constantly.  Finally over the past two or three weeks she curls up with me all night and climbs all over me when I'm sitting on the computer.  We sometimes find her curled in one of Wobbles' old favorite spots and can now smile at the memories.  She still occasionally plays hard to get with R, who is coming to realize maybe he is a bit of a cat guy after all.  


So thank you, Bonnie, for your kindness on that lousy spring day.  It turned out to be the perfect day for a migraine!  And thank Stacey for rescuing the Shrimp and her litter mates from a life on the streets, Lowell for teaching her that toenails must be trimmed and teeth must be brushed, and the vets for getting her healthy enough to come to her forever home.  She really is just the perfect cat for us, and we were rescued just in time.  

Sincerely, 


 

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