It's not just a matter of finding the right cat. You must come up with the right name, too. No self respecting man wants to stand at the back door of his house in the middle of the night in his pj bottoms calling out "Muffin! Muffin, where are you? Come here right now Muffin" Maybe a skinny guy could get away with it. Maybe.
The Boy and I started to compile a raft of names to take with us the next time we hit up the county animal shelter. We're looking for a cat, a house cat, but we really know right up front who'se cat it's going to be. I may be paying for it, but he'll be feeding it, brushing it, taking care of the cat box. I know who'se lap that cat'll be sitting in after all that attention. I don't mind. I'm happy just knowing that a cat will be around the house after all this time.
I hit up that same shelter a few years ago. I was looking for a dog. I figured we were both looking for a dog, M, but that I would kick off that dog search for both of us. But one thing I had to face right off the bat: I don't have the right yard for a dog. No gate, no fence, no place for a kennel. It would of had to have been a small pooch. A complete and total lap dog. Tough thing is that I was and still am an 8 to 6 kind of guy. That dog would have gotten mighty lonely, mischevious and probably pretty destructive. So, no dogs for me. Why I didn't think of a cat back then blows my mind. I could have done it. I had the room. Me and a cat. Would have been nice.
But instead I waited. Cruised the animals at the Kitsap Humane Society shelter weekends the month of November. Found a nice figurine of a troll feeding a bird at the annual Christmas rummage sale. Found a beagle that told me, right away, that my yard wasn't quite right. After that dog I never went back. I should have looked harder at the cats but I fixiated on a dog. We both were. I was thinking too much in tandem, not enough about my real needs. No matter.
So, The Boy and I made a blood pact. Cat for the New Year. We saw a few that might have made our day but we didn't have the cash flow and besides, that cat would have been left alone for two holiday periods. Couldn't see leaving it alone, couldn't see hauling it for a thousand mile trip in a cat carrier. Not my style, not any cat's style that I can see.
Just so you know, M, that that trip to Silverdale was not without reference to you...what song should come up to play on the anonymous satellite radio service as I stood there looking at those damn cats? That Seal song about the rose. I know that I stood in that parking lot three years ago talking to you as you got on the Kingston ferry, on your way to meet a girlfried who flew in for a UW game. You met her and had a somewhat okay weekend, from what I can remember. It was the photo that you shot, aping our shot in the mountains that thrilled me afterwards. It would always remind me of that damn beagle I put on hold but never bought.
In the end, you had your snapshot, I had my troll.
Love.
Your WHMB
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