Jul. 19, 2004

I Have A Cat

I have a cat.

This has much bigger implications than litter boxes and canned food.

I have commited to the life span of an animal.

About two weeks ago I opened the door and this weird little face was looking up at me with dirty ears. Now, once upon a time in a little fantasy mood I researched cat breeds that would go well with me (Iím a low maintenance kind of gal) and discovered the Cornish Rex breed. I looked at this ugly little face and recognized a pure breed animal. A pure breed that had run away from home. Who needed a bath.

Because my life is not quite my own, I immediately called The Boy to see if itís okay with him if I bring this cat inside to keep him safe until we find his home. Fortunately for me The Boy is a cat freak in need of love and replacing the memory of his childhood pet, so the cat comes in. I put signs up all over the neighborhood, I call all the cat shelters I can think of, I call vets, I talk to neighbors. Nothing. For two weeks nothing.

Then on the very anniversary of finding the cat two weeks later, I get a call. The owner identifies him precisely.

The Boy is devastated. Devastated.

Only to discover she has to move back to Germany post haste and was hoping to find a new home for her kitty.

SoÖ I have a cat. And itís a good thing. I think I may never have gotten The Boy back altogether had we lost the cat.

And now Iím a cat owner. I have a living creature that relies on me to live. And love. Oh, and heís deaf. And Iím still deciding what state I live in.

The Boy and I put off getting a cat for over two years because I could not deal with the idea of a) owning a pet that relied on me for a long life term. And b) because then The Boy and I would then own something together that we would be jointly responsible for, that would have emotional repricussions and last for a long time; seven to twelve years long.

So Iíve made a commitment. And Iím kind of horrified. And kind of proud.