Double Trouble
Back in November my impulsive inner child decided she wanted a kitten. The Captain came home that night to be greeted by this face -
He instantly fell in love with her, of course, (who wouldn’t?) and all was happy at our little house.
For a short time.
A few weeks ago I decided that Bella was lonely. Realizing that I had already pushed my luck enough when I brought her home, I figured I’d better get permission this time and set to work trying to convince the Captain that he wanted nothing more in the world than another cat. Fortunately he gave in before I decided to ignore him and do what I wanted anyway.
It’s amazing how difficult it is to find a cat when you actually want one. If I hadn’t desperately desired a companion for Bella, some neighborhood tabby’s womb would have likely exploded on my doorstep, providing me with a whole litter to choose from. But because I was determined to bring home another feline friend, all the people with ads in the paper had found homes for their unwanted furballs, the rescue bus lady required folks to be canonized by the pope before we could adopt an animal, and the local humane society disappeared without a trace.
Finally we turned up at a shelter that still existed, and, even better, had cats.
Because Bella seems to truly believe that she is a baby puma, the tiny kittens were out. (Plus lack of litter training mitigated the effects of their cuteness.) The six-month old cat looked considerably more sturdy and was relative in age to Bella. As she was given the uncreative name Cat (maybe Kat?), she clearly needed a good home.
As I filled out the application for Cat, I began idly chatting about our little rascal. That was probably my undoing.
Suddenly the woman behind the desk started asking me if I had seen Arlene. Arlene seemed so similar to Bella, they would make great companions, she insisted. Although I was initially skeptical, eventually she swayed me into adopting Arlene (mostly because she wouldn’t let me take Cat home).
“And I haven’t even told you the best part!” the woman said just as I finished signing all the paperwork. “I told you Cat would cost $80, but Arlene is only $5!”
I froze. Not in “What a bargain!” shock. In “Oh crap! What’s wrong with her?!” terror.
I don’t know that anything is actually wrong with her (besides the name Arlene, which was changed to Shelley that same day), but I wish someone had explained to me the fuzzy math that makes two cats about ten times more cats than just one.
When it was just Bella, we had this shadow of a pet that had to be sought out to be snuggled half the time. With two cats it’s more like, “Where the hell did all these cats come from?!”
With one cat, the newspapers from the kitchen table might be on the floor by the time we got home from work. With two cats, we come home and yell, “How in the world did you manage to break the bathroom vanity?”
With one cat, I had a desk and an occasional kitty paperweight. With two cats, I no longer have a work station and must constantly scold, “The laptop is not approved additional seating!”
So I think we have just enough cats right now.
Dogs, on the other hand . . .
Shelley has a bad habit of eating from our trash (not just food either). I find that pretty gross.
by zuzuernie
Love your blog! Not a cat woman myself, but I loved your story just the same. Since I’ve always wanted to be called Shelley, I’m thrilled with the name change.
My friend’s cat eats any Fun Foam found in the house. Pretty hilarious when you have kids’ crafts that you have to hide from the cat!
Love this entry. I adopted two kittens once in a studio apartment and ended up going to the ER because the cats ran so much at night their dander put my allergies into wacked out mode. What was I thinking?
I continue to collect animals. Now we have two guinea pigs and a rabbit that my daughter gives no attention to whatsoever. She wanted them so desperately . . .
There are some unique aspects to owning 2 dogs as well. Just like with children, you never know who is truly guilty. Also, they have a tendency to eat other dogs’ (and sometimes their own) feces. I have witnessed the aftermath of the latter and it is not pretty. I’m sure cats never do anything that disgusting.