Sunday, Jan. 23, 2005
Dear Diary:

When my cat Norma disappeared this fall I resolved that I wouldn't consider another cat until this spring. I tried to be strong. Really. I did. But events have conspired against me.

Two weeks ago my mom-in-law's cat went to the big catnip field in the sky, and then a few days ago her Rottweiler died of cancer after a long illness.

The spousal unit's mom is a very feisty 81 and is perfectly content to live alone down at the home farm as long as she has a cat to talk to and a big dog to tear intruders to bits. Not that there's ever been an intruder in the 60 or so years that she's lived in that house, but still and all, she feels better with a dog.

We dug up a pamphlet from the Chaumi�re aux quatre pattes, the no kill shelter where the spousal unit and I got our cats Enid and Norma. Much to our surprise, my mom-in-law called the shelter the very afternoon her dog died, had a lovely chat with the lady who runs it. Turned out that there was a well trained four-year-old female German Shepherd just left last week by an elderly couple who have moved into a retirement home.

My mom-in-law has had two German Shepherds and adores the breed, so Sunday afternoon the spousal unit and I took her to the shelter to check out the dog. She decided to take a cat carrier in case she saw a kitty companion. The spousal unit put a second cat carrier in the trunk.

"Is your mom getting a second cat?" I asked innocently. The spousal unit rolled his eyes. "There is no way you'll be able to walk into that shelter and not walk out with a cat."

I have been very lonely cat-wise. While Enid and Zubby are perfectly wonderful cats, neither of them has taken to bossing me around as the late lamented Zoe used to, a role ably assumed by Norma when Zoe died.

Even worse, when I go to bed at night and announce that it's "cozy time" no cat hops up on the bed and sprawls on its side beside me for tummy rubs. Zoe did that. Norma did that. I've had over 20 years of being purred to sleep and now I have to go to sleep without the feline soundtrack.

I think this is against the Geneva Convention.

That said, we have a very tiny house and two cats are probably enough cats. Well, they would be enough cats if one of them loved me much, much better than it loved the spousal unit. Sadly, this hasn't happened.

When we arrived at the shelter we were greeted by about 25 dogs who were insanely excited to see us. It was heartbreaking. The woman who runs the shelter called out the name "Shadow" and a smallish German Shepherd materialized. It was love at first sight for my mom-in-law and even I, the woman who doesn't much care for dogs, could see that this was a bright, well mannered beastie.

My mom-in-law declared the dog adopted.

The shelter has two farm houses full of cats. I'll repeat that. Two farm houses. Over 120 cats.

Really, I didn't stand a chance.

There were some exquisitely beautiful cats this time. There was even a Siamese cat and I've always wanted a Siamese cat. Something about their blue eyes really appeals to me.

My mom-in-law wanted an intensely affectionate cat, so we spent about 45 minutes mixing with the cats, seeing how they responded to people. A very confident gray female tabby began to follow my mother-in-law as she walked through the first house, pushing other cats out of the way in her quest for bonus pets and ear scritches. It was pretty obvious that this cat was an affection slut.

When we found out that the cat had lived in a house with dogs before, the deal was done. My mom-in-law has christened her Abigail.

As we were looking for my mom-in-law's cat, the woman who runs the shelter was telling us the stories of the various cats that have come to her. I absent-mindedly bent down and caressed a tiny little long-haired cat, a mix of white and tabby. She was far from the prettiest cat in the shelter�her fur was a bit unkempt, her tail a bit matted.

Turns out she had only been at the shelter a few weeks. She'd been abandoned by cottagers and had almost starved. Even now, after three weeks of care at the shelter, I could feel the outline of her spine quite clearly.

Her story was the story of my Zoe, a cat who gave me almost two decades of intense devotion. And so I didn't take the lovely Siamese cat, even though I've always wanted a Siamese cat. I did not take the beautiful white long-haired cat with one blue eye and one green eye, even though I thought she was beautiful. I did not take the wonderfully affectionate orange tabby cat with the extra toes, even though he made me laugh with his antics.

No, I took a supernaturally calm, kind of ugly wee cat with very large green eyes.

Vera. Don't ask me why, but I've called her Vera. Hopefully, she'll rule me with a firm paw.

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 62.08 miles. All exercise bike miles, far easier to accumulate than elliptical machine, stairmaster or treadmill miles. Those will start next week. *Groan*.

Goal for 2005: 1,250 miles - 2000 kilometers


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