New Kid on the Block

Those were sad, quiet days post-Bridget.  The house felt empty.  No bright face peering around the door, no soft paw on my face to wake me up.  Bridget liked to sit on the counter in the bathroom and keep up a running commentary as she watched my morning preparations for work. Things like that may seem incidental and cute at the time, but they're heartbreaking when only a memory.  Empty house, sad heart.   A wise and dear friend and I talked at length about the magic of animals and what they give us.  I wanted that love and sweetness again.  But  I was worried that in some way, I was disrespecting Bridget by wanting another cat.  And I was worried that 'another cat' just wouldn't, couldn't measure up.  Big paw-prints to fill.  My wise friend told me that I'd know when the time was right and that the right cat would find me.   That sounded good, but I was in the mood for concrete direction, no mistakes allowed. 

One day I was driving sort of near the Animal Shelter.   By 'sort of near' I mean that I actually had to go about 10 blocks out of my way to get there, but I  thought what the hey, I'll just look.  We have a wonderful, loving no-kill shelter on the Peninsula.  There are three rooms full of kitties just waiting for someone to love them.  Of course, all the Shelter volunteers (and they are legion) do love them, but you know what I mean.  So the hunt began.  The first room was "kitties for a special price" as they had been there the longest.   It made me sad to think about bargaining for pure love, but whatever works to find a home.  Those kitties were sweet, as were those in the next room, but no one really reached out to me.
Ah, but the third room.  This is where the cats are in enclosures, either due to a recent surgery, recent birth or some other need to keep them physically quiet.  As I stooped to gaze into the cages, two lovely brown mitts with extra toes reached out through the bars.  Bright green eyes looked up at me with interest. 

"How about this one?" I asked. 

"Oh, this is Piper." (All kitties get new names when they enter the Shelter, I learned.)  "She came in with a litter of five kittens.  She's barely grown, probably became pregnant in her first heat.   She was just spayed, so she has to be kind of quiet.  She's a sweetie, part Abyssinian I think."

I took her out of the cage and she began to purr, of course.  She relaxed into my arms when I sat, and studied my face with wide eyes.  To be fair, I put her back and looked at few other kitties.  But out of the corner of my eye, I could see those paws again reaching out through the bars.

As I write this, India (her new name) is lying next to me on the desk, lazily  pushing pencils,clips, everything on the floor, since in her opinion, I'm not paying her enough attention.  We chose "India" because she is exotic and beautiful, and she is "Indie" for her coming home with us close to July 4.  She was a skinny teen mom with prominent hip bones.  She's now five pounds heavier, fully grown and so full of love that I know Bridget had a part in her choosing us.   I know it.

Make no mistake, there will never be another Bridget.  It's been almost a year since we lost her and I still miss her.  But then, here is Indie, batting a ping pong ball into my office for a game.   Who can resist?