Linus the Cat

I got a kitten.  I had been talking about adopting a pet from the minute I found out I would be living alone.  After too much talk and stocking the humane society website, my mom finally convinced me, “to just go look.”

Friends – you cannot “just look” at kittens.  

In my mind, there should have been a perfect meet cue.  I wanted a moment.  The ct looks at me – I look at the cat.  He rubs my legs or licks my face.  It is fate and we knew we belonged together.  

That did not happen. 

Let me preface this by saying just how anxious and depressed I was for several months before this. I was frail and not my best self.    

The first thing that happened was I wanted to save all the animals. I was sad they were all there, abandoned. 

I had to wait in line to visit with the kittens. When it was my turn, my mom and I were taken into a room to meet all the kittens. The last litter that was brought to us was 3 kittens, 8 weeks old, 2 gray, 1 black.  They paid us no interest. They chased each other round and round, literally bouncing off the cinderblock walls of this tiny room. The volunteer stated that she had never seen a liter as wild as this one; they were truly uniquely.  My mom looked at me with big eyes that said “no”, as I pointed to the smallest, possibly most rambunctious one.

We had to take him right then and there. With no supplies, we drove to the store. As we drove, the 2 lb kitten jumped around in his oversized,cardboard – make-shift carrier. He clawed aimlessly at the sides, meowing profusely to be freed. 

Finally home, I set up all his things and opened the box.  My mom and I kneeled down on the floor to greet him. He jumped out, at first, relieved.  But then once again he resumed his meowing, clearly searching for his brothers. Suddenly looking even more tiny than before standing next to my bed, he was easily lost in my one bedroom apartment.  He continued to wander and I began to cry.  Doubt crept in. 

“I can barely take care of myself, how am I supposed to take care of a kitten”

“He doesn’t want to be here”

“He will never love me”

“This was a mistake” 

And as I cried, the itty bitty, fluffy, gray kitten, with a white dot perfectly placed in the middle of his neck, rubbed up against my leg and began to pur.  He jumped up on my legs that were stretched out in front of me on the floor, and settled comfortably between them. 

The tears stopped, the doubt was gone.  He claimed me as his.  My rambunctious, overzealous, aggressive, goofy crazy kitten.  I named him Linus.  And for the past 10 months he has brought me nothing but constant worry and pure joy.