OMC, where am I? Are these peeps old or what?
Today is it! My 4th Gotcha Day! I can't believe I've put up with the peeps for 4 entire years! Just call me St. Keisha. Ma hopes no one gets offended by the language cos it's me talking a little smack. She wouldn't use certain of the same words I did back on that fateful day.
My furever home! Bring me some nip, pronto!
Back on January 29, 2006, my peeps were at adoption day at the Hoboken Animal Hospital for quite some time when Pop saw them bringing in more cages. "THERE SHE IS!!!," his eyes shouted with joy and love as he spotted the carrying case that I was in. As usual, I was fighting them as they tried to put me in a cage.
I looked around at the few humans there and as I looked at my future peeps, I thought "Please don't let the old farts take me home! Look, he can hardly walk. How is he gonna play with me?" Then I glanced at the other couple. "Good Lord, they're FROGS. I don't want to live in France." When I realized it'd prolly be one or the other, I sulked in the back of my cage. I keep coming to these things, but I'll never be adopted, I thought to myself. Woe is the pussycat!
Pop pointed me out to Ma who came over for a look-see. For some reason, there was a note on my cage that said "Play bites." How's that for discouraging the masses! How's that for false advertising! It didn't seem to dampen Pop's spirits. Then Mlle. Frog came over and commented to Ma how clean I was. I heard Ma say "well, she's my cat. I'm adopting her. You can't have her!" "Will I be going home with the geezers," I wondered. Or will I be going back to Hillsborough yet again?
Ma was in a snit because they lost the adoption papers she filled out online. Then they confused her name with someone else's and told her they couldn't let her adopt. Meanwhile, Pop was still of the mind that he wanted 2 cats. Ma found a little black and white tuxedo who was still in a carrying case and thought she was sweet looking. She was 5 years old, female and small; the criteria they were looking for. When Ma finally filled out the adoption papers once again, she asked about taking Mitzi too. Would we get along?
The woman said they could bring us home and see if it was going to work out. They didn't have space there to let us have a go. There are no fight this time as they put me back in the carrying case. I was going home with the seniors; like it or not, I was going to have a HOME. No more being kept in a cage.
Looking smug on the expensive Tibetan rug
I'm sure you all know that when you bring cats home, you should leave them in the case awhile until they get their bearings. Well, the CAP lady needed the cases back so we were let right out. Mitzi ran under one bed; I another. I described what came next in my first ever blog post. I had a home!!! I had a furever home!! I would never have to go to another adoption day!
My $99 atmosphere bed which I just gave away
After I started walking around, I favored one paw from being cooped up in a cage for so long. The shelter would let us out at night but I was still cramped up all day. After a while, I stopped favoring it and started my reign of terror on Ma, who later went for tests which revealed she does indeed have quite a severe allergy to cats. She's taking meds so she doesn't have to give me up (as if Pop would allow that to happen!) However, I may have spoiled it for any cats that want to live with my peeps in the future. The other night when I was singing before bed, Ma shouted something about never having another cat after me. I was the last! HAH! I've heard that before!
So that's how I came to this furever home. This home full of Yankee swag and kitty love. I love my Pop even if he can't play with me a lot.
Even though this is the last part of this story, there is still a lot more of my life to come since I plan to live to be 37 years old. And, guess what, I'll still be stunning!