Chapter 3: Asking `the big question' about the cat
My quest to adopt an orange cat led me to the front door of a house down the street. For some reason, I was not nervous when I knocked on the door.
The cat had been sleeping on my picnic table for more than a month. Somehow, I resisted the urge to start feeding it.
Long ago, I had another long-haired cat. Her name was Feline Unit. She was a Manx calico and she belonged to the Handsome Woodsman years before I knew him. We talked to the cat and she talked back. She followed him around the yard when he worked on his trucks and watered his eggplant. He would often sit down on the couch to play his guitar, and the cat would try to jump on his lap.
She was his cat, and when he died we mourned him together.
About eight months later, a friend agreed to stay at my house when I went on a long vacation. I was far from home and asleep in a hotel room when thought I felt the Feline Unit jump onto the bed. When I woke up, I realized I had been dreaming.
Before my flight home, my friend called and said the cat had gone missing. I never saw the cat again.
I think I went a bit loony for a while.
I put up so many posters I broke my color printer. I called local vets. I printed her picture in this newspaper column. I consulted the kitty psychic. For months I walked through my neighborhood
I didn't know the orange cat very well, and had only petted him a few times, but sometimes something just feels right.
alone, well after dark, making the whistle sound I used when I opened a can of wet food. Someone called and said they thought they found my cat. I raced over to their house, but it was the wrong manx calico kitty.
And now, 6 ½ years later, the orange cat showed up on my picnic table.
The right thing to do was to try to find its owner, and ask if it was OK if I adopted the cat.
I didn't know the orange cat very well, and had only petted him a few times, but sometimes something just feels right.
“Hi, I live down the street. If this is your cat,” I said showing a photo from my phone, “I'm hoping I can adopt it.”
I don't remember her exact words, but the very nice woman who answered the door soon agreed with my request.
I was so thrilled I could have hiked up four flights of stairs to the top of the Enloe Medical Center parking structure and shouted “yippee” to no one.
They said yes!
I cannot fully express my gratitude for the quick and kind gesture.
During our brief but meaningful conversation, I learned that the cat is a male, has been neutered, will tolerate a bath, has been taught to use a kitty litter box and loves to have his long hair brushed.
All these details show that the cat was loved and that the family cared for him well. The family also recently got a new puppy.
I wish I had thanked them more profusely, but I was so excited I raced home to see if the cat was in my yard. I wanted to tell him the good news.
Of course, the more important question is whether the cat likes the inside of my house as much as he likes the picnic table.