The Terrible Twos

Happy Birthday, Rocky & Starbuck!

I'd been thinking about getting a cat. A friend of mine told me about the Kitty Kind adoption program that was run out of the PetCo on Union Square and so one warm, sunny June Sunday after church, I strolled down just to take a look. You know, not to get a cat, just to look, and think about it some more.

They had some beautiful animals; some of the older cats looked so noble, sitting there calmly surveying the world. "If I get a cat," I thought, "I probably want one who's about two or three." But then I thought, "Oh...but wouldn't it be fun to have a kitten?"

Then I thought about how I'm usually gone during the day and how lonely the cat might be, so I started to think maybe it would be better to have two. I asked the attendant if they had any kittens who could not be separated and was shown to a cage holding two of the cutest little babies I'd ever seen, a brother and sister: the boy was a dark, striped tabby and the girl was a fuzzy little ball of marmalade. They opened the door so that I could introduce myself. The boy arched his back and hissed, and when I picked up the girl, she slashed my ear with her claw.

"Hmmm...I'm not sure the chemistry is there, " I said politely, blood dripping onto my shoulder.

"Well, we do have one other pair," said the woman. "The girl has a cold so she doesn't look so good right now and you probably shouldn't handle her, but you can look." And indeed, she led me to a tiny dark grey and white kitten, with snot running out of her nose and thick, crusty gunk clogging her eyes. The boy looked fine, though, and when I picked him up he let out a tiny squeak of a meow, then buried his face in my neck and began to purr while he did that kneading thing with his claws. "Well, hello there, " I said.

"So, what do you think," asked the attendant. "Are you interested?"

The boy purred. I looked in his tiny yellow eyes and couldn't imagine saying to that sweet little face, "No, thank you." So instead I said, "Oh, yes, please."