About 6 weeks ago I had the following text-conversation with one of my oldest childhood friends.
Her: We have a cat inside. You want him? We were just taming him down and then moving him on...
Me: Hah no thanks - cat free life is nice:)
E: Well if you change your mind let me know. He's turning out to be a great cat. My life is just too busy
Me: Hah how old - kitten or adult
E: 2 or 3 months. Was a wild one we trapped from my wild adult cat. Didn't know if it would work but it did.
Me: Cool not for me but I'll ask around.
First of all, yes, we do text in mostly proper grammar and complete sentences. We're not those kind of textors (*shakes fist at damn kids, yells at them to get off her lawn*).
And second, a little bit about my friend E. I've known her since I moved to the region, back in 3rd grade. We were in the same class, and rode the same bus. We've been friends ever since.
She's always had a soft spot for animals. She now owns and operates a business related to those interests. I'm very proud of her for having the courage to make her life and living doing something she truly loves - most of us don't have that courage. But anyway, animals. For as long as I've known her, E has been trying to find homes for several. She grew up in a farm environment, so there were always kittens and puppies (many people here don't believe in spending the money to spay and neuter animals that primarily live outdoors and exist to catch mice/ward off predators/etc). Don't judge E or her family and/or neighbors for this please.
I swear, a season could not pass without my family being offered a puppy, a kitty, a goat, a duck, a chinchilla, a rabbit, or some other random animal that E had taken pity on and was trying to re-home. My mom and dad love animals, but we had one dog and one cat and they stood their ground in spite of E's (and my) pleading.
So back to the texts. I forgot about it. And then last weekend, Pink Hubby and I met E and her fiance at her house to take some engagement pictures of them. As we waited for them to finish primping themselves, this little fellow walked up to us and pushed on our legs. I picked him up and pet him. He purred and pawed at me. I set him down. Pink Hubby squatted and extended his arm. The kitty stood on his back legs and grabbed Pink Hubby's hand. Then scampered over and jumped up on his knee, rubbing his furry little head on Pink Hubby's chest and arm.
E said again, "You suuuuure you don't want him?"
Silence and smiles from the PH duo. E went to tend to something else. "You know," I said, "she tried to give me this cat."
"This is a healthy cat," he said.
"She had him neutered, he's got all his shots," I said.
We went out and spent the afternoon taking photos and getting rained on. We grabbed some takeout Chinese on our way home. We spent a few days both talking about it and not talking about it.
"A cat would destroy that blanket," I said one night, referring to a super-soft chenille throw my mother gave me, which I had kept stashed in a trunk throughout my cat ownership years.
"We could put the litter box in the laundry room," we mused on another evening.
"I would want to feed the cat high quality food," I stated on another day.
And on Wednesday evening, he said to me: "Do you have a name picked out?"
"I don't like to name animals I don't own," I replied.
So we weighed the pros and cons and finally, I texted E. I said: "After 20 years of you trying to make my family adopt various pets... I figure I owe you one."
Last night, I folded up my super-soft chenille throw and placed it back in the trunk. This morning I brought my Peace Lily and African Violet to work. Tomorrow, we'll pick up our cat.
[Edited to include: This history I wrote a while back regarding all of my/our former pets.]