“I don’t want an indoor cat!” With that statement, I more or less let my daughters know that my great-aunt’s cat would have to find a home with one of them. We would certainly never just giver her away, but even though I seemed to be the obvious choice for taking her, I was concerned about having “another responsibility.” Caring for my great-aunt and the concerns for her health and wellbeing had been on my shoulders for 20 years. Steve and I were looking forward to having some time without responsibility. Now that my sweet little 101 year old relative was in a Care Home, I was relieved of worry about her, so having a cat to think about just didn’t fit in to my plans.
While I was making arrangements for moving everything from my great-aunt’s apartment, I had a friend who lived in the same complex come in and feed Patsy (that is the cat’s name). This went on for a week. I would also go visit, and she always greeted me in the same warm fashion I’d been accustomed to throughout the six years she lived with my great aunt. In fact, I was the one who chose her from the Stanford Rescue Mission. She was very sweet, and I thought would be a perfect companion for my great aunt, who had recently lost her beloved pet of fifteen years.
Fast forward to present time. Both my daughters have cats, and one has a dog as well. Patsy is an “only” cat, and also an indoor cat.
“I don’t want a cat!”
“But mom, you already have two outdoor cats that you had fixed when they were little, and you have to be responsible for them. What’s the difference with having another one?”
“I don’t want an indoor cat!”
“Well, mom, if you really feel that way, both your son in laws are really up for having Patsy come live with either of us. But I think it’s a mistake. Patsy knows and loves you.”
End of conversation.
I went to see Patsy, and she was especially sweet and loving, and I thought about my girls and the responsibilities they had, and thought maybe I should just at least take Patsy for a little while. I mean really, it was true, I already had two feral cats who I had to have taken care of whenever we went away, so what was one more...for the short term...until a good home could be found for her.
My birthday was on a Saturday, and we went to my great-aunt’s apartment to pick up a few things. We happened to bring my friend’s cat carrier, too, and she graciously came up to the apartment and helped us get Patsy into the carrier. Patsy meowed mournfully on our drive to our home in a different town, but once she was in the house, she rolled over and purred and bonked her head against all the furniture, acting as though she’d lived here forever.
“She’s very sweet, isn’t she?” I asked Steve. He thought she was very cute.
“Maybe she needs a special little bed,” I said. Luckily, there was a pet store just down the hill.
“Well, just so she’s comfortable until we do something different….” and off I went to the store.
A kitty condo, two beds, scratching posts, new high sided kitty pan, brushes and combs, special dishes, and many toys later, Patsy is here to stay.
The girls came over for a visit one Sunday and noted how she fit in. Both were somewhat jealous because their cats aren’t nearly so nice.
“Mom...wouldn’t you like to trade?”
“NO! Patsy is OUR cat!”
Moral of the story: Never say Never.
From Seasons of the Soul Spring 2008