I’m a dog person.
Unfortunately I’m also a crazy person. Any dog I’ve ever had has ruled my life. If I couldn’t take him with me I didn’t go. The solution used to be Rupert but he’s pretty much taken up residence in Santa Fe.
I think it’s the right to carry guns that drew him.
I may not have mentioned it before but my husband is on the lam. Anyway I’ve thought for awhile that I needed someone to share my life with, obviously a dog .
My niece Randy once gave me two parakeets. They hated me and I felt sorry for them for being in a cage. Whenever I let them out, instead of sitting on my shoulder and singing sweet melodies into my ear like in Cinderella they flew up into my curtains and hid and one time one of them fell in the bathtub. So no birds.
Even with my crazy pills, or anti crazy pills, I feel like I’m standing on thin ice and I’m afraid to upset the applecart. I keep trying to think of a way to get a dog without threatening the life I’ve built in the past two years.
I figured it would have to be very tiny so that I could put it in a bag and take it with me wherever I go. That way I wouldn’t have to feel guilty if I left him home. See? I told you I’m crazy but I know myself. I used to think a million times before I left the house when Rupert was here. I was tied down by a dog that wasn’t even mine.
I went back and forth on this and then about a month ago I went to dinner at my friend Brenda’s house. I was enjoying a cocktail and chatting when in walked Brenda’s cat. It felt like the room came to life.
Before that a cat had never occurred to me. I never had one and dave was allergic to them so the thought never came up. I did mind Liz’s cat, Puss and I loved him in spite of his occasionally murdering pigeons that had the bad luck to land on his terrace.
Stephanie has two really sweet cats. They too are killing machines but they live in the country and you know those country folk, always killing stuff.
Once the idea of a cat entered my mind it wouldn’t leave. It seemed like a perfect solution to my empty house.
What kind of a cat owner would I be though? I was driving with Steph a few years ago and there was a woman driving in the next car all hunched over with her cat lying across the back of her neck. Steph remarked that if I had a cat I’d probably be doing something like that.
And Liz said that I ruined Puss. She claimed that he was a great cat before I started minding him. For some reason Liz thought it was bad if a little kitty jumped up on the table during dinner and ate out of your plate. To me nothing could have been cuter.
I had pretty much decided that that might be the answer for me when once more Randy came to the rescue.
It seems that she rescues cats. I mean RESCUES CATS. I believe she has about thirty. She made it clear that any cat I got should be gotten by her. She would find me a cat that was affectionate but not needy and was fixed and healthy.
Then she sent me a video of the kitten of my dreams. He is grey with white feet and a lovely smile. I fell in love.
Never one to mince words, Randy said that although she never lets anyone over 65 get a kitten she would make an exception for me and take it back if I corked off.
Since he wasn’t quite ready to be adopted and I have plans to take care of Steph’s animals for a week in January, it was decided that he will come to live with me on or about January 18.
I’m both excited and scared. I know nothing about kittens or cats. I will have to get a bunch of equipment to care for him and make him happy. I hope he likes me.
Since I have a bit of a wait I decided to choose a name. I thought of Stuart, and Bob or Stephen but none of them seemed to stick.
Then in the middle of the night I started thinking about this new experience I was venturing into and I thought of my first love. The one who got my heart beating in a way it hadn’t before. When I said it I knew it was right.
I can’t wait to meet Elvis.