Intro: For 45 years, I have hated cats. All cats.
The rest: My daughter Abigail has begged for 3 years for a kitten. She's sweet, adorable and virtually irresistable. 3 years is an incredible amount of time to ward off her pleadings.
At family camp at Trout Lake this summer, I gave in and allowed her to pick out a kitten. Tom was 10-12 weeks old and was raised in the horse stable at camp. He has a motor that never stops--literally uninterrupted purring 24 hours a day. I gotta google why cats purr.
On the way home from camp, Andrea called me (we had 2 cars up there). She said that Tom needs company and that her friend Char had 5 barn cats she was looking to find homes for. Growing more reluctant, I agreed to have another 2 cats brought over. Amongst the rules: no cats inside any part of our house, and I don't participate in care for the animals since I am allergic.
Muffin and Oreo came that next day. Friday, 1 cat; Saturday, 3 cats. They all seemed to be OK as cats go. Nothing special in my book (did I mention that I pretty much am a card-carrying member of the "I hate all cats" nation??). No cat is special, of course.
On Sunday, we head off to The Journey for church. We had an after-church picnic/potluck for the July 4th weekend. Good fun. We then went home for some family chores and stuff around the house. When we got home, the kids ran into the DETACHED garage (technically not part of the "house"). About 30 seconds later, Nate yelled "Hey, there's another kitten here!!" Fearing that they had befriended some stray runt, I went to check it out.
There, sitting in a kennel was a wet little rat-like thing. It had been born just 5 minutes before. Muffin was delivering kittens. AARGH. The evening was magical, to watch Muffin deliver kittens, lick them off, nurse them, eat placentas and do all the things that God had hard-wired into her puny brain. The kids watched in awe (mostly...a little shock too). But, I was starting to ooze frustration. I don't want ONE cat, let alone THREE. Oh, wait, make that EIGHT cats. When the heck did I agree to this??
Of course, the kids all said that they should each get a kitten...5 kittens, 5 kids. Makes sense, right? NO!!!! After weeks of tense negotiations, I have seen to it that 3 of the kittens will be given away. In fact, one is already gone.
As the time went on, I realized that I'm not allergic to short-haired cats. Only 1 of the 8 is long-haired. So, I could play with the kittens, Tom and Muffin. Then Muffin gets all affectionate and jumps on my lap when I'm on the front porch sitting enjoying a nice evening. I give her a saucer of milk and she flipping starts to cuddle with me. Tom plays all the time and comes running up everytime I inch outside the door. The kittens are ridiculously cute. Andrea and I were in the garage the other day and I said: "I loathe myself for liking cats." I feel like a traitor to all I have held dear...
Oh, yeah, as if going from 1 to 8 cats wasn't enough, Oreo showed signs of pregnancy within a week of arriving. So, she proceeded to deliver another 5 kittens in late August. 13 cats. Shoot me now. Except they are cute and fun. Keep them all. Get rid of them all.
As I look back on this whole cat thing...it's a microcosm of life, especially as I live life. I love to sign up for new things and to pursue new things, not always sure of the implications of it all. Every once in a while, something seemingly innocuous comes in to view...and I pursue it...and BAM!!--it explodes into something I never anticipated.
Kinda makes life fun. Usually.