I knew he didn’t have long to live. And he was nothing like I wanted. I wanted someone I could mold – someone I could grow with, who could grow with me. I was going to shape their personality – going to make them just like my last one – going to create a replica of my first soulmate I had growing up. I had to have a kitten.
I had searched everywhere. Watched the classified ads. Scanned the bulletin boards. Even posted a few “Wanted” ads. Nowhere could I find that perfectly pointed, bat-eared complainer to be my bud. True, it wasn’t the heart of kitten season. But they were still being born, I knew it. The neighbor down the road had a slew of them – black, orange, tabbies, calicos – but no Siamese. The dumpster at the Landfill was overflowing with them – and I even saw one that mimicked a tortie – but they were feral. I had never imagined it could be this hard.
And then I came of age. The internet. But of course. They had everything, or at least, a way to find it. And so I did my search.
Low and behold, there it was. A goldmine. The candy shop of all candy shops. One stop shopping. I scanned the pictures, all 115 of them. Available in every color, shape and size. My eyes glistened. I could feel him calling to me. Just a click away, the address loomed larger than life. There was a local rescue that was jam packed with cats – who knew?
The tips of my fingers tingled as I scanned the photos. Would he be there waiting for me? Would I know when I saw him? Would I see it in his eyes?
My heart sank. “Left in a basement for 8 years, I nip for attention.” “Got given up for eating the dog’s food and throwing up everywhere.” “Sensitive stomach, special diet needed.” Oh no. None of these sounded right. They were too old. Too encumbered with issues. Too behaviorally involved. I had just lost one, the heartache had been so deep. I just couldn’t go there again. Besides, they would never bond with me. They had loved someone else – I could never be the apple of their eye.
Maybe if I called. Maybe there were other cats not yet on the website. Maybe they had my soulmate waiting in the wings. Maybe I could explain just what I needed and someone would understand. What did I have to lose?
“… an application process. We don’t get kittens that often…..We concentrate on matchmaking of personalities….. 3-5 days to get approved….. You’ll be assigned an Interviewer….You should be approved before visiting…..” Goodness. I wasn’t adopting a child. This sounded like an incredible amount of work. Since none of the other adoption avenues were fruitful, I guess I didn’t have much to lose. Might as well start the process, though it certainly seemed more tedious than necessary.
(Five days pass by…….)
So I’m finally approved. While I know they are only concerned I provide a good home, I feel as if they have checked me inside, outside and upside down. I’m on my way to the Rescue Center where I’m hoping the cat of my dreams will be waiting. Someone small, cute, bouncy, silly and mischievous, all wrapped up into one. Someone who will pounce on my shoelace and climb on my shoulder and snuggle in my hair. He’s out there, I just know it……
The cats know why I’m here. Some of them come running, having mastered Adoption 101. A few amble nonchalantly in my direction. Several peer from atop perches scattered around the room. My heart beats fast. I talk with each one, and we carefully size each other up. Introductions are made. I wait for that moment – that clicking of souls as we search each other’s eyes for the sign. An edge of panic creeps in. What if he’s not here? What if, of all these cats, my soulmate hasn’t yet arrived?
The Director is patient. She discusses each cat in depth – their likes and dislikes, their quirks and idiosyncrasies. They all seem nice, but no one fits quite right. Just as I was afraid – they’re all too much of this, too little of that. I try to squelch my disappointment. I can wait, there’ll be another time. I have to work hard to keep my tears in check, as I listen bravely to the Director telling me not to worry, that someone will come along….
As I turn to leave, a twitching ear poking from under a blanket-covered lump catches the corner of my eye. Not holding out much hope, I figure ‘what the heck’ and point to the lump. “Not the best candidate,” says the Director. “An older gentleman, medically involved and behaviorally challenged, he’s on his umpteenth home in the same number of years. We figure he’s probably here to stay, which is fine, but he will be close to impossible to place.” My curiosity is peaked. I lower myself to ear level and gently lift the corner of the blanket…………
Three years later, and I still haven’t gotten the kitten who will pounce on my shoelace and climb on my shoulder and snuggle in my hair. Instead, I got a cat who upchucks when he’s bothered, who pulls his hair out when he gets nervous, and who often doesn’t make it to the litterbox. I got an old guy who sits on the side of the tub and holds deep, meaningful conversations with me, who snuggles in my arm with his head on my pillow every night, and who, without reservation, adores me for me. While he looks nothing like what I expected, I truly have found my soulmate.
