Today is my Adoptaversary, or Gotcha Day, whatever you’d like to call it. I cannot believe that I have been putting up with these bothersome humans for a whole three years now. I suppose the twice a day feedings make up for it, though I wouldn’t mind being fed a bit more often.
The humans have taken good care of me, and helped me through all of the bad times, like when I was shot. I really enjoyed that Yanni they played to relax me when I was injured. I’m pretty sure that they would still let me outside, too, if they knew I wouldn’t go into that awful yard that I was shot in.
They aren’t all that bad when I think about it. Since we’re on the topic of living with these people for three years, instead of telling you every single thing I’ve done for the past 1,095 days, I’ll leave you with the story of how I came to live with them.
I was fed well and slowly became more adjusted to shelter life. I began to trust the shelter workers. They played with me daily, and cared for me, so I decided that they probably wouldn’t suddenly turn on me. I was also beginning to make friends with some of the other kittens in the cage.I was 2 1/2 months old when I was taken away from my furry and warm cat mother and sent to the Animal Shelter.
The other cats in the neighborhood spread around the story that Animal Shelters were a place you never want to end up in, because if you don’t escape quickly enough, they’ll kill you. Luckily I was sent to what they called a no-kill shelter, but I wasn’t completely convinced. They probably just called it “no-kill” so that people would like them, and they’d get more customers. It was an overall traumatic experience, especially since I had no idea what to expect. I was thrown into a cage with around 10 other kittens. They were all older than me and I felt alone in the world. Some of them were nice enough, but others were just plain mean.
It was an average Friday at the shelter, though I was a little sad, seeing as my two best friends had been taken away the day before. It was sudden, and all the shelter workers kept talking about their “forever homes”. I personally was a little afraid that it turned out they really did kill cats who had been here too long. Little did I know that I was to be taken to my forever home in a matter of days.
Three humans entered the cat room where I lived, but I didn’t pay them much notice as I moped in the corner. The people discussed which cats they liked best, and started sticking their fingers through the holes in my cage. My cat friends all seemed interested in the fingers, and were enjoying grabbing and biting them, but I wasn’t interested in the least.
One of the humans seemed much more interested in me than any other kitten in the cage. She stuck her fingers through the cage trying to get my attention, and in an attempt to get her to stop bothering me, I put my paw out to her hand once. Instead of satisfying her need to have a kitten scratch her, and getting rid of her, she seemed to be more interested in me than before.
One of the shelter workers came in. I expected him to send these humans away, but instead he took me and a little black and white kitten out of the cage. I was beginning to fear that perhaps I shouldn’t have been so trusting after all… He handed me to the human whose hand I had patted with my paw. I decided to listen in to what the humans were saying.
While doing so, I discovered that either the black and white kitten or I would be going home with them. What if I was chosen? At first I thought it sounded terrible, but then I thought of all the possibilities moving in with the humans would pose. What if they fed me more? What if… I dared not think of it… what if they let me out of this awful cage?
I decided to become a pile of cuteness so that I would be the one chosen. Obviously the black and white kitten did the same. Well then, my fantastic personality must win them over in a moment. Instead of thinking about looks or personality, they peered into our eyes. It turned out that the black and white kitten had more eye gook than me. What a way to be chosen as a pet. Hmph.
I was put back into the cage, and the humans left. I couldn’t figure out what had just happened. It seemed as though the people had decided to take me home with them, but instead they just left. My first reaction was, “THEY LEFT ME HERE WITHOUT TAKING ME!!!!” Then my mind cleared up, and I decided that it didn’t really matter.
They were probably people who would like to eat a cat for their lunch. I’d get my chance again. Hopefully. But… what if I was one of those cats who lived and died in the shelter? I couldn’t imagine never having a chance to roam free, or play outside in the grass hunting birds, having the taste of fresh squirrel on my lips… I was on the point of tears, but as you know, manly cats do not cry. If I was going to live my life in the shelter, I would do with pride and strength.
Something was going on however. The shelter workers transferred me into another cage, where a lone kitten sat. Turned out that he had the same story as me. Some people came in, said they wanted him, but then they left. Perhaps we were so unwanted that they condemned us to death, or perhaps torture? I waited until the next Monday in constant horror. I feared that I was going to be taken away to a torture chamber, where they would immerse me in water, and keep a juicy mouse just inches away where I couldn’t reach it.
Instead, the humans that had said they wanted me walked in the door. I bid my kitten friend farewell as they took me out of the cage and brought me to the front desk. My new family put me into a pet taxi while they signed some papers. While I was being carried out to their car, I realized how truly dangerous this could be. I began meowing pitifully the whole car ride back to the house, where they released me inside of their bathroom. I was so frightened that I pooed on the the floor, however that is not something I’d like to remember. Let me tell you, it was only because they had not shown me the litter box yet. Don’t worry, being a curious kitten, I quickly explored the house and made myself completely at home.
How time flies… I’ve been living with them for 3 years now. Wow. I wonder if any of my friends from the shelter are still there, and if they miss me. Or even remember me. I sure hope they’ve all got homes themselves now.
Those humans better remember what day it is or I’m going to bite them when they are sleeping…
P.S. Don’t worry, they remembered what day it was, and gave me some of my favorite treats! Yum yum!