Last night while buying cat litter at PetSmart we went into their adoption area (they allow local non-kill shelters to use the space for free to adopt out their cats) to pet all the cats, as we always do when we’re there. Usually I want to take all the cats home, Ian tells me I’m being ridiculous, and we go home.
But this time was a little different. In the last cage on the top there was a little gray/white guy named Elliott who grabbed me. Literally. He was so playful and sweet and there was just something in his eyes. We probably stood there for about 30 minutes trying to figure out if I was seriously considering adopting ANOTHER cat.
But Elliott’s story was so sad. His owner had gone to jail, and he was locked out of the house with no one to take care of him. The people working on the house said he kept trying to get back in, and so they brought him to St. Francis Animal Shelter in Nashville.
Ian told me it was up to me, which secretly made me really happy because I knew if he was 100 percent against it he would have said something along the lines of “Woman, if you adopt that cat I’m divorcing you.”
But I knew adopting a cat—especially a fourth one—was a big deal and I certainly didn’t want to impulse-buy one. So I said we would just come back Saturday and if he was still there we’d adopt him.
Except that all through dinner I kept thinking about him. And all night. And when I woke up in the morning I was still thinking about him. And by the end of the day, I knew I had to go back and adopt him. (Luckily Ian was still on board or I would have been crushed.)
So the whole drive home I was worrying that when we got to PetSmart someone would have adopted him already. I mean, I know the goal is to get the stray cats adopted out, but I know in my heart no one would be able to provide a better home for Elliott than Ian and I. (I mean for Christ’s sake, we are now giving insulin shots twice a day to a cat we initially just wanted to let in out of the rain.)
But we got to PetSmart around 8:15 tonight, and he was still there. Playful as ever. So a PetSmart employee came and opened the cage so I could hold him, and he just started nuzzling my chin and purring. It was all over then.
So we filled out the (tons of) paperwork for both PetSmart and St. Francis, paid the $75 and took him home!
Right now he’s upstairs in the bedroom. We know from experience with trying to introduce a new cat into the house that it’s best done slowly, so for the next couple days Elliott will hang out in the bedroom (with a litter box in the bathroom and some food/water near the window). We’ll eventually open the door and let the other three cats check him out. But Gordo is pretty freaked out, although I have to give him props for not going cougar on anyone yet. BK is mostly curious, and I don’t think Evil Twin gives a damn as long as he still gets fed.
As soon as I can get Elliott out from under the bed or the dresser I’ll take some pictures of him. He’s so small compared to these other cats, and he’s about a year old. So I think he’s going to be the first cat we’ve had that’s not going to be a monster.
Oh man. Four cats. That’s crazy-cat-people territory according to Ian. But are we really crazy? We don’t adopt every cat we come across. I swear.
