For this Tweetpeat Tuesday I have the finale of the first (one of many to come I’m sure) kitty post, When Love Walks In, wherein I explained how we went from zero to two (kitties) literally overnight. Well, I explained how we came to adopt one pet but not how we wound up coming home with two, which is the purpose of this post.
We were really only suppose to go to the animal shelter to see Ryan. I still had a little work to do enroute convincing Kevin a pet was a good idea. He wasn’t fully sold on the whole animal idea although I’m pretty sure he knew his fate was sealed the moment he agreed to the visit. Shaking his head as we pulled out of the driveway, he turned away from our petless existence and headed toward the new, animal-friendly life that awaited us.
If you’ve ever read my post, Can We Have a Pet, I note that I even surprised myself when I became the driving force behind animal ownership. I thought Kevin would crack way before I did. I never particularly wanted a pet and certainly nothing larger or more mobile than a Furby. I like my house neat and orderly and my kids the same way, and while the kids may not be little anymore, I felt taking care of two other human beings in addition to myself was a large enough responsibility for one person.
But once I saw the picture of Ryan and made the decision to bust her out, I thought, Well, what’s the difference between one cat and two?
I wasn’t really being serious as Kevin wasn’t entirely enthralled with the situation to begin with. We’d be lucky to make it out of there with just Ryan. But once the volunteer at the shelter removed Ryan from her tiny cage, and we saw that she was panicky and frantic to get back into it, I knew this wasn’t going to work. The cat, ultimately, was for the kids, one of which was a particularly loud and boisterous child, and if the cat was clawing it’s way back into it’s three foot square cage the one time she was allowed out and carefully handled by a knowledgeable volunteer what chance did we have putting her up against a crazed, feral boy? The two personalities did not jive, and I didn’t want to disappoint the kids with a magically vanishing pet for a pet, or scar the kitty with a tumultuous home life.
Then right next to the kitty there was another kitty. One who was just dying to get out. I couldn’t see her through the metal bars. All I could see was her little, black paw reaching out through the slats. She kept swiping at the volunteer, trying to play. It was so cute and heartbreaking at the same time.
“What about her? Can we see her?”
The volunteer was more than happy to accomodate me. She took her out and placed the soft, playful, furball in my arms. That’s when I said, “How about both?”
“No,” Kevin said matter-of-factly, shaking his head, stunned. “Absolutely not. Are you crazy?”
Maybe I was a little crazy, but I couldn’t leave her there. She was so desperate to get out, and she had so much spunk and life in her, it wasn’t fair to let her waste away there. Turning my attention away from the black purring ball in my arms I looked at him with big, sad eyes, and he caved.
“This is crazy,” he muttered. “I don’t even know what’s happening anymore. I’ve been bamboozled!”
“We’ll take both,” I said to the volunteer. That afternoon we left with two new additions to our family.
Don’t you see? We had to. We couldn’t come for one kitty and leave with another. That wouldn’t be right. And I wasn’t leaving there without Cassie. The only reasonable thing to do was to adopt both. And that’s how we went from a no-pet household to a two-pet kitty wonderland.
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