The Kitten no one Wanted

I had Misty for nearly 10 years and I was disturbed that despite her voracious appetite, she began to lose weight. A trip to the veterinarian confirmed my worst fears:  Squamous-Cell Carcinoma. This news forced me to make one of the most difficult decisions of my life.
I dearly loved that cat and was devastated at the thought of losing her, but I let her go…

A few days later, I came out of the dispatch office. Our evening dispatcher “Bobbie”, a very attractive 30-something divorcee hopped out of her car in clothing not “office appropriate.” She was several hours early to work with a smile directed at me that clearly said, “I have found the sucker I was looking for”.

 “I found this kitten running around our neighborhood. I can’t find who owns him, so I took him home.  I already have a cat and another one is making my daughters allergies flair up badly, so I asked my neighbor who’s an animal control officer what I should do and she said if I take him to the shelter they’ll put him to sleep and he’s such a nice cat and I don’t want that to happen and I don’t know what to do!” All of this came rushing out of her mouth.

I looked into her car and in a carrier in her backseat; I glimpsed a grey kitten with big gold eyes. I looked into Bobbie’s big brown eyes and said, “Give me the fur ball”.

Bobbie gladly handed him over and thanked me profusely, I put him into my own carrier and our next stop was the vet’s office for shots and tests.

If you’re a responsible pet owner, you know that free cats are only free for about the first thirty minutes. This “free kitten” cost me $90.00 in the first hour. He had ear mites and fleas and worms but all standard tests came out negative, so we were off to a pretty good start. The only thing missing was a name-I named him Bobbie after the woman who dropped him into my lap.

Taking this grey kitten in so soon after Misty’s passing wasn’t a smart idea. I hadn’t gotten over the loss of Misty, and Bobbie being a typical kitten only served to be an annoyance. Looking back, I can tell he wasn’t being annoying as much as he was just being a kitten. He never gave up trying to get through to me. He just wanted to be loved.

One evening, Bobbie hopped up on the steering wheel when I was finishing out my log. He placed his left paw over my chest looked straight into my heart with those big, golden eyes. His “Meow” was plaintive. He told that he deserved to be loved. It was in that moment, I could let go of the grief that had welled up inside of me. I gathered Bobbie into my arms and he has been with me ever since.