Maybe it’s a little odd that my first blog post is about my new little cats. But it’s strange how much anticipation went into adopting my babies (Is it weird that I just called them my babies? Am I a cat lady now?) and how much joy they’ve brought to my life in these two short weeks; I can’t help myself.
I spent many years riddled with anxiety and general lethargy, and many of those years wishing I had something to care for and about. My family and partner are amazing, beautiful people who light up my world but something felt missing. I remember dramatically crying at 18 years old because I couldn’t have a cat and everythingwaschangingsofastandallIwantisacutefluffykitty. But I waited. And I waited.
Suddenly 2017 came along and with all that’s going on in the world, we decided it was the right time to find a couple of buddies. We wanted a bonded pair of cats and initially had our eyes set on a two goofy boys at the humane society. They seemed perfect. Not minutes before we walked into the shelter, that particular pair had been chosen by another family. Our hearts were broken. We asked the wonderful shelter staff if there was another bonded pair and they pointed us to Falon and Talon, a very shy bonded sister and brother. Falon, the little tabby, was so scared she had herself curled tightly in a corner with her face planted firmly into the wall. Talon was the suspicious bigger brother high up on a perch, watching us as we tried to engage with his sister. As shy and scared as they were, we knew they had to be ours. It just felt right. But because they were both found as strays without a history, dirty, terrified, and untrusting, we knew had a lot of work ahead of us.
We brought them home and they immediately ran to hide under blankets, under the sofa, and as far away from us as they could. Each day got a little bit better as we discovered the things they loved (wet food! treats! feather toys!) and how to bring them out of their shells. We walked comically slow as we passed them, blinked slowly at them (which I learned is called cat kisses), and whispered sweet nothings at their curious faces.
This past weekend was our two-week mark with them and they have blossomed. Talon, or Tally as we call him (the storm tuxedo fluffball), is the biggest, sweetest goofball. He trills all day when he wants to play and boy he can play. For hours. For daaaays. Fally is the sweet observer who watches us do anything, and oh does she love a good cheek scratch. They purr with content when we pet their soft fur, and give us an extra dosing of love when we bring out the food bowl. And to think that 13 days before they’d run at the mere sight of us. We still have a way to go to earn their complete trust but I think we’re on the right track.
In just two short weeks they have taught me to find joy in the little things, slow down a little bit, and build up a reserve of endless patience and unrequited love.
I love my little kitty babies.