After a year of lobbying, culminating in some intense negotiations over the past couple weeks, I finally "convinced" Beau to let
us get another cat. (Convinced being a very strong word). There are certain things I believe when it comes to cats: 1) You should always have two. They keep each other company over the long hours when you're gone, and well, it's just more fun that way; and 2) You should try to get them from your local Humane Society if at all possible.
This past Saturday I went to the
Humane Society of Western Montana specifically to see a cat named Donovan I had read about in the paper. He had all the qualities I wanted in a cat, both physically (adult, male, short-hair, inside cat, fixed, different coloration than Sabina), and personally (likes other cats, affectionate). When I got there, I made a beeline for him. The place was fairly crowded already. He was in a small glass room with another cat, and immediately he began crawling all over me and rubbin and lovin. Awwww.
Then he bit me. And then he bit me again, and again. Ow, damn it! Now, I don't mind a little cat nip (ha ha), but an adult cat who repeatedly bites you is a bit of a problem. I kept stroking him and talking softly, thinking maybe it was a fluke, but he'd rub-rub-rub, then proceed to sink his fangs into the palm of my hand. Again and again. Oh, shit.
I decided to give him a break and went to see the other cats, of which they had quite a few. They had a lot of really wonderful ones, mostly female, who were sweet and loving. I opened up a lot of cages and stroked a lot of kitties. I would take photos of my favorites with my cellphone and send them to Beau at work. One cat in particular caught my attention. He was a male Siamese with gorgeous blue eyes. I've never really been a fan of the breed. They're loud and pissy in general, and their super-angular over-breeding is resulting in a pretty queer look. Thankfully, this cat looked more old school with the darker coat and larger, muscular body. Also, despite the fact that all the other cats in the room were mewing and calling, he was surprisingly silent. As soon as I opened his cage, he climbed up so his front paws were on my shoulder, and then be began to nuzzle my chin.
Yeah, I was hooked.
I checked him out - adult male, fixed, and declawed *WINCE*. "Likes other cats, especially the ladies." Oooh, well that will help! His name was Cinder.
I tried to be fair though and took my time to visit all the cats there, revisiting some, and even took a moment with the kittens though I had no intention of adopting one of those. I then went back to Donovan. A small boy was standing in the room with him, tightly clutching one hand in the other, and displaying a face of pure misery. "Did he bite you?" I asked the boy. He nodded silently. I tried to console the boy and asked him a few more questions of which he simply nodded or shook his head, continuing to hold his hand protectively. I tried to then pet Donovan and talk softly to him, but he just kept biting me. I went and talked to the staff about Donovan and his biting and they kind of looked at each other and smiled. "Yeah, he's a wild one," they said. Oh well.
I went and visited the dogs, then came back and asked the staff about Cinder. Well, they said, a lot of people had been inquiring about him, and in fact, someone was coming right now to see him to adopt. At this particular Humane Society, you can come in and adopt on the spot, so it's pretty much first-come, first-serve. It turns out that Cinder had been the "Pet of the Week" in the local newspaper and so was getting a lot of interest. Shit.
My original plan was to come when they opened at noon, narrow it down, and then when Beau got off of work at 4pm, race back to the Humane Society which closed at 5pm to adopt a cat. Although Beau was less than thrilled about this, it was important to me that he be a part of the process, help choose. The staff explained that I still needed to submit the permission slip from our apartment manager (true) and come back with that before I adopt. They apologized that they couldn't hold Cinder for me, but I understood. That was fair.
Then the staff told me some more about his history. He'd been with a family with a small boy who had broken Cinder's leg at just 6 months old! Horrors! Then, they'd had Cinder declawed shortly afterwards (this is something I am totally against). Finally, when he started peeing out of his litterbox (because they had just gotten a new dog), they gave him up. Heartbreaking! (The litterbox problem stopped instantly after he was surrendered to the Humane Society).
So, I left and called Beau, telling him about Cinder. I was going to wait on all of this, but I decided I should just go ahead and take care of it, and with my sweatshirt absolutely covered in cat fur, I went to my apartment manager and got my permission slip (after plunking down even more of a deposit than the original). I went home and showered and changed clothes and by this time, Beau had called back and told me he trusted me enough to do th
is on my own and go ahead. My heart pounding, I raced back to my car and drove back to the Humane Society - on the other side of town, of course.
When I got there, they recognized me and told me that there was a couple in with Cinder now, and I should basically just wait, biting my lip. I filled out the application and turned in my apartment permission slip and sat down in the lobby. And waited. Awhile.
As I sat there, two different calls came in specifically for Cinder. In addition, a spiky-haired woman walked in inquiring about him as well. I waited for the woman behind the counter (a different one) to basically tell the spiky-haired woman the same thing they'd been telling them all, "A lot of people are interested in him, forget it." But to my horror, the staff person ended up escorting the woman back to see him. I was going to protest, but I didn't get the words out fast enough, and was intimidated about shouting across the room as they walked off. So, I sat there and waited. And waited. Here and there the staff woman I had been talking to shot me sympathetic looks and I tried to smile back. I even went in and petted a sweetheart of a dog for a bit before coming back to deposit my butt into the chair.
The spiky-haired woman emerged and began whispering to the staff people. Uh oh. I glared in her direction, just daring her to try to steal him out from under
me. Then I heard one of them say, "Oh no, Cinder can't go to a home with kids. He doesn't like kids." Yes! The spiky-haired woman left.
After what seemed like eternity, they called me up to the counter. Apparently, the previous couple had decided against Cinder after he had bit the woman on the chin. *snicker* Okay, that's not really funny, it's just luck. The staff were unfazed. "That poor cat has seen
50 people today. He is so overstimulated and exhausted. We're not surprised." So, with that interesting green light, I went ahead and filled out all the paperwork to adopt him, and for just $10 more, he could be microchipped as well, which I had done (Sabina already has one for when she went to NZ). They gave me a bag of Science Diet, a collar and tag, all his medical history, a free vet visit card, and of course, Cinder, in a large cardboard box.
Driving home, he finally found his voice and began to cry. I let him out and petted him and peering out the windows with wide-eyes, he was fine. And now, we're all home, cats in two different rooms (it takes Sabina quite awhile to adjust to a new animal), and all's well. He's still a total sweetheart and I adore him. I miss him when I'm at work. We did
have one small accident *cough* but since then it's gone smoothly. I look forward to many many years with .... with....what's his name?
That's where I hope you, all four of my readers, come in. I thought I'd throw out the names I picked for him. Cinder is actually kind of a cool name, especially with his gorgeous coat, but I'd prefer to name him myself for one, and secondly, there's something I feel...like how he had this traumatic childhood and now is his time to start all over, with a new name. Over-personification of a cat, perhaps, but I can identify with wanting to start all over anew.
Anyway, below are the names in the running. I'm curious as to what you all think. Like any of them?
Name choices:1.
Fergus - named both after a literary character in a series Beau and I read, and after Beau's family's Scottish clan.
2.
Kiwi - cause it's a cute name and relates to our beloved time spent in New Zealand
3.
Atticus - after Gregory Peck's stellar character and because it sounds cool. "Also, it's close to 'cat,' so I can just call him 'hey, cat' like I want to," muttered Beau.
4.
Phoenix - cool name, Harry Potter connection, and it's where I grew up.
5.
Stile - named after another literary character and kind of a neat homonym.
