A co-worker recently told me that a friend of hers had a box of kittens and was looking for good homes for them. The timing could not have been more perfect, I had been to the local shelter the night before and was told I needed 7 forms of ID and a blood test before I could even think of taking one of the furballs home. A box of kittens sounded like the kind of instant kitty satisfaction I was looking for!
Andrew and I picked up "Straggler" on Friday and brought her home in an Office Depot copy paper box. She was quiet the whole ride and I was nervous to take off the lid and let her loose. She hadn't come up to us while we were at the house at all. In fact, she hadn't shown any interest in any one or any of the other kittens. "Straggler" seemed to be aptly named and I worried I had a new anti-social roommate.
The first night she didn't come out from under my bed. Until 3 am, when I woke to hear her crying. I couldn't find her and worried that somehow my 460 square ft studio had swallowed her into another dimension and I was doomed to forever listen to her cries. You can't just pick a kitten from a box! I told myself. This is a serious thing, you wouldn't randomly pick a husband from a group of two stray men in a box!
I found her, hiding under my stove and then really began to worry. I can never cook again now that I have a stove cat. I better invest in frozen dinners. But soon enough, she came out and over to me. All of a sudden it seemed a weight had been lifted from her, she walked over to my lap, rubbed up against me (I was horrified!) and started to lick my fingers.
Since then she hasn't left my side. She follows me all around my little studio apartment, sleeps in the bed with me and is sitting on my lap as I type this. It is a love that is so natural feeling and I hope that our common interests (napping, chasing my slippers and eating Fancy Feast ... well that last one is all her) will blossom into a great friendship for years to come.
I can't write this post without mentioning my darling Bruce. He and I had a different relationship; he was so cool and independent but would lay across my face some mornings and drool on me. We had that relaxed love towards each other, and of course, I miss him. I'm not sure what he would make of Eleanor, but I think he'd like that I named her after a President's wife. It seemed to me that he always suspected he was named after Springsteen (he's not!), and resented it.