Crystal came into our lives in late spring of 2008. Our cat Dancyr had gone missing, and we went to the local vet’s office to put a notice with her picture and our contact information in case she turned up. While we were there, we learned about a wonderful program the vet had for local cats. He provided traps to concerned people who would trap feral cats. He would spay or neuter the ferals at no charge, and they would usually be released back where they were found. When they were young enough, or in the case of females with kittens, he would foster the kittens until they were tame, old enough to adopt out, and healthy. He kept a bank of cages in his office where adoptable kittens stayed during the day, and they could be adopted for only about $30. For that fee, he would spay or neuter the kitten when it was old enough, provide all shots, and provide all vet care (including prescriptions and hospital stays) for a full year. The main reason we couldn’t get a cat then was that couldn’t commit to all those expenses, but the vet’s generous offer made it possible for us.
I promised my daughter I would think about it, if Dancyr couldn’t be found. I knew she missed her cat.
Dancyr was never found (I still hope she found a home with someone, and they just didn’t want to give her back or never saw our notices). So soon after that, we visited the vet’s again, this time with the plan to adopt a kitten for my daughter.
I was going to let my daughter choose. And I was only going to get ONE cat. She had her eye on a soft dark tabby who sat shyly at the back of the cage. When the vet tech opened the cage to take out the kitten for my daughter to see, a white streak launched itself through the open door and landed on my chest. It was a tiny, LOUD kitten, insistently mewing at me and trying to dig its way into my hair, refusing to have its claws disengaged from my clothing.
I let my daughter visit with her chosen kitten (who came home with us and we named Lynx), while I attempted to calm the furball whose tiny blue eyes closed each time she opened her mouth to cry at me, and who still wasn’t willing to be put down. To be honest, white cats never really appealed to me. Short-haired cats were not my preference. And this one seemed to be very noisy and demanding! Somehow though, she managed to convince me that she needed me, and no one else would do. Soon I was telling myself it would be a good idea to get two kittens instead of one, so they could keep each other company anytime they had to be alone.
(to be continued!)