With the unexpected passing of Nova, Tamara and I were torn about what to do next. Do we wait? Do we get a kitten? If so, when, and what kind?
While we’re normally fairly picky about the animals we choose, wanting them to have great social skills and comfort with humans, Tamara added another criteria to the mix. She wanted a grey kitten.
She made this announcement as she went down to Ferum to go visit Danny and Laurie for a few days. And, you might imagine my thoughts as I get an email from Danny stating that Laurie has taken Tamara to an animal shelter.
Tamara contacted me, letting me know that many of the cats were adult, feral, or just mean. Nothing interacted with her in the manner that we’ve done so often.
For the curious, Tamara and I usually put a litter down some distance away, sit on the floor, and then call to the kittens. Some small subset usually comes. Those that do, we then pull out strings and see if they’ll play and interact. If they do that, we then sit there idle for a bit and see if they get bored and run off, or whether they stick around. Those that stick around, we hold and see if they’ll stay settled. Those that do, we hold out at arms length, letting their arms and legs hang freely. Some cats freak, others relax and purr, totally trusting. Of those that are content and don’t freak, we flip them on their backs and cuddle them like a baby to see if they’ll stay in that position. We mess with their heads, tails, bellies, and paws to see if they don’t mind being touched. All the while we talk in a regular volume, so the kitten knows what to expect around the house. Few pass this battery of simple tests, but those that have we’ve adopted quickly and given a fantastic home and tons of attention.
But, back to the story.
I get a call from my sister, Connie, who’s wanting to see how we’re all doing since Nova passed away. I tell her we’re passed the hard mourning phase, obviously still miss him, and that Tamara is down near Roanoke and was looking for a grey kitten.
“A grey kitten? I have one!” she perked up.
“You have a kitten? I thought your husband was allergic.”
“He is, it’s over at the neighbor’s house.”
“Where did he come from?”
“Well we were pulling into our driveway and saw her. But she ran. Then the next day we went and coaxed her out of hiding.”
“And she’s grey?”
“Yup. And she has a vertical white line down her face. Wanna come see her?”
Now I had just gotten off of a full day of work and wasn’t feeling much like traveling. So I said I’d call her back.
Just as I hung up the phone, Marcus rings my doorbell. He’s just gotten a new car, and he’s got nothing scheduled and wants to go on a road trip. I tell him about the kitten, and he’s game, especially if Connie would make a batch of her famous chocolate chip cookies.
So, I call Connie back.
“You say it’s a grey kitten?”
“Sure is!! You coming?”
“How old is it?”
“About 4 weeks, maybe. It’s got blue eyes, and is very small. You coming?”
I look at Marcus. He nods. “Sure.”
So Marcus and I get in his car and drive to West Virginia.
Connie whips up some cookies, stalling, and I finally ask to go see the kitten.
We go over and when we get inside, there is this cute, loving, purring motor of the sweetest Calico I’ve ever seen.
“Connie…?”
“Mmmm Hhmmm?”
“Uh, she’s not grey.”
“I know, but if I said that, would you have come?”
…well, let’s just say we have a nice kitten, and Tamara and I both adore her.