Never in my life could I have anticipated uttering those words. Last Sunday, Missy and I were out having a fun Sunday afternoon when she mentioned for the 137th time that she wanted a “kitty-cat.” Being the valiant and ever-sensitive husband that I am, I returned the 137th flat “no.” After the moment settled, I realized how much of life my wonderful wife permits me to enjoy by letting me buy endless loads of crap that all have their purpose in my world and fit neatly into the puzzle of my existence. The computer parts, the gadgets, the gizmos, the whirlibobs and the Nanos. Ok the Nano. But still. Life for me is great. And many times, my life is great because of the sacrifice of my sweetheart.
Now don’t get me wrong. Missy has it pretty good. She has her fun shopping excursions and has her own set of gadgets, gizmos and whirlibobs–though the attributes of her inventory versus mine has a bit of a technological gap. But we have learned to enjoy life. Except for one thing. There has been this strange, undescribable void that Missy has carried for the duration of our marriage thus far. Nothing serious. Nothing of major consequence. But still there.
It is probably very close to the truth that we have had 137 conversations about getting a cat. I can never know for sure. I stopped counting around 41. But one thing is for sure. Today, even as I type these very words on this very blog on this very day, there is a cat in my bed. Do I like having a cat in my bed? Not really. Am I going to remove the cat from my bed? At times. How is there a cat in my bed? Well that’s where the story really begins. So, thanks for enduring three paragraphs of nothingness while I set this up in your head.
Now the good stuff.
Somewhere between conversations 30-something and 100-something, I resolved that I would get my wife a cat. She is more than deserving and she really wants one. Yes, I am allergic to kitty-cats. Yes, I have never really liked kitty-cats. Yes, I have always considered myself to be a dog person–or better, not a cat person. But I would have to move past all that. For the sake of love.
How I drew the strength to point my Toyota 4Runner to a store called PetSmart that Sunday afternoon, I will never know. But somehow we arrived. In a highly ironic twist-of-fate, it was National Adopt-a-Pet Weekend and the Elmore County Humane Society had brought their best and brightest out for the occasion. Could this be a sign from God? No, I quickly decided.
Inside the store they had a special section cordoned off and all the prospective adoptees were crammed inside. There were kitties running everywhere. I think I saw one peeing on another one in the corner. Bully. There were lots of other animals. Dogs. Birds. Even rabbits. It was actually very interesting to see all of this unfold before my eyes. I had to stop and consider whether the trainers were in control of the animals or if the animals were apart of a very strategic, militaristic overthrow and had seized control of the operational duties of PetSmart Store #1115.
In the corner of another kitty cage, we saw him, the King Kitty, curled up in a ball, fast asleep. While other sleeping kitties fell prey to the childish pranks of the lucid ones hopping around like the bottom of the cage was on fire, King Kitty was confidently, majestically sleeping in complete peace, as though all the animals in this habitat knew who the boss was.
Missy wanted to hold him. She liked how cute he was. I liked the fact that he was conked out and possibly a lazy cat with little propensity to shred furniture. So I didn’t mind her holding him. Once he was out of the cage, we realized this cat was the very inspiration to Phoebe Buffay’s ode to “Smelly Cat.” But he was lovable. He latched to Missy immediately and was clearly the pick of the litter. After 14 hours and 51 minutes of paperwork (we filled out less paperwork buying our house), we had successfully contributed to National Adopt-a-Pet Weekend and were the proud new owners of a 4-week-old domestic long-hair kitten. Ten minutes later, we arrived home and the 4-week-old domestic long-hair kitten became the proud new owner of a two-bedroom, two-bath home in East Montgomery. I’ve already signed the deed over to him.
Overall, the newest addition to our household, and the closest thing our parents will have to a grandchild for another year or two, has been great. The kitten was already trained in all of life’s necessities. So far, our carpet has spared being tagged by him. He does like to chew on the power cord of my PC. At first I didn’t like that. Then I realized, hey, two more days at the rate he’s going and he’ll get all the message he needs, courtesy of Alabama Power Company. But really, he has a sweet disposition and really fits in our household. Strangely enough, it’s pretty cool to own a cat. Especially this one.
Now if I can just figure out how to get the darned thing out of my bed.
Visit Missy’s side of the story and call to action.
