Before we went on vacation, the kids and I fell in love with Will, a shelter cat on display at the local pet store. We felt it would be unfair to adopt Will before we left for two weeks, so we didn’t take him home.
Well – that, and Greg says he doesn’t like cats. He didn’t want cats, he’d spent too much time cleaning up after his lazy stepmother and her equally-lazy daughter’s cats, he did NOT WANT A CAT (even though they’re easier than that damned dog we own).
So come to find out, while I was off doing my own thing, Ethan asked Greg to take him to the pet store to see the kitty cat and Greg told the kids that maybe after vacation we could see about getting a cat.
And that, friends, was like finding the Golden Ticket.
So on Monday, we went back to the pet store and although I warned them this would probably be the case, I had two heartbroken kids when they found out that Will had been adopted.
So we drove all the way into the city to see what there was to see at the Humane Society.
After going in and looking at the cats and some of their histories, a volunteer approached.
“Didja fill out the form?” she asked.
I responded, “Um, do I need to fill out a form to look at the cats?”
“You can look but if you want to visit with any of ‘em you hafta fill out a form, then when someone is available to help you, they’ll come get your form.”
“Um, okay, we’ll fill out the form, then where do we wait?”
“You kin wait out here or in there or wherever, but you hafta fill out the form.”
We filled out the form.
Then we waited.
And we waited.
We went back into the cages and looked at the information sheets for the cats some more, then we went back outside and waited. All told, we waited an hour before anyone helped us.
Now, if you’re a parent, you know what waiting for an hour will do when you have a couple of excited kids (especially a 3-year-old) along. I finally gave up scolding him for climbing atop the planters and jumping off and just let him do it. “F-it,” I thought. “Maybe we’ll get help a little faster if we’re being obnoxious.”
Okay, in all honesty I did the best I could to contain him, but he was excited, hadn’t had a nap, wanted to see the cats, the dogs, to play with them all, you know the drill. I wish I knew how many times I threatened to leave before we got any help.
Eventually a young lady came around and took our form. While Ethan bounced around and tugged on my hand, I told her what we wanted. “We want an adult cat. We want him or her to be laid-back, and as you can see, it needs to be good with kids.”
To her credit, the lady chuckled and immediately named three cats she thought would be good. We visited with each of them at length, and then I asked the kids which they’d like to have.
So then it was time to take him back to the vet for his rabies shot and we had to sit around for twenty more minutes. As you may imagine, these twenty minutes passed in much the same manner as the hour we initially waited. Then I saw them come out with the cat and I went to the desk and sat down for paperwork.
Hooray, another unfriendly volunteer. By this time, I had just had enough. I was ready to call the whole thing off. I mean, honestly, they have all these cats needing homes and then they make adopting one a singularly unpleasant experience.
Then the volunteer did something that made me completely lose my shit (in a fairly restrained manner, for me) on her.
“Um,” she said, with a pointed look at Ethan (who by this time was doing nothing but standing next to me fiddling with notions on her desk), “You are going to supervise him with the cat, right?”
For about 10 seconds, I was simply taken aback.
“Y-y-yes,” I stammered, “I mean, of course.”
Then I got pissed.
I laughed, a good and hearty laugh, the kind of laugh that gets everyone’s attention.
“I mean, what the hell do you expect me to say?!” I queried. “’Durr, no, I’m not going to supervise my kids around cats?’ I’ve had cats. I’ve had kids.”
Then I gritted my teeth, fixed her with my most menacing look, and hissed, “I THINK I CAN HANDLE IT.”
She backed off pretty quickly after that, and even told me that my kids were actually well behaved compared to some.
Mm-hmm. I don’t know about all that, but fear will make you say things you don’t mean.
Anyway, this is Lou. Lou is a big fellow, as you can see. And you can also see – just by looking at the photo – precisely how Ethan feels about Lou:
Vinnie does not share Ethan’s enthusiasm, and has followed Lou around for days, staring at him. Lou doesn’t much care, generally flaunting his nonchalance, lulling Vinnie into enough complacency that Vinnie edges close enough for Lou to
And he does. And Vinnie yelps and runs away, shaken, until he gets brave again.
It’s really quite a show.
(and I think even Greg is starting to warm up a little toward him)