Sometimes life lessons come in the strangest of paths. When I was a child, there was one wish I had each Christmas that was always met with disappointment. Now, this is not to say that I yearned or wanted for anything, truth be told I was spoiled (but not in a bratty childish way - of course). I was lucky enough to have a family who showered me with not only love but that purple She-Ra mountain I wanted, a NKOTB doll all my own and of course more clothes than any young child should ever outgrow.
But year in and year out I wanted a kitten. Yes, I loved my dog - adored our rabbit, birds and any other stray pet Dad brought home but somehow a cat always enticed me as an animal I could find some kinship with. Cats seemed, at least from my limited experience with them, to be intelligent, self sufficient and most of all cute. The first few in this list became my argument for a cat as I got older, the latter was just a gut instinct and the knowledge that I would only choose a kitten I found to be especially cute.
But I digress, I was rambling as so often one does when talking about their childhood. It has been said that pets choose their owners and certainly this is true of my newest pet. When my birthday rolled around, the one that cusps the change of decades in my life, my thoughtful albeit Beelzebub like boyfriend gave me the option of golf lessons and clubs or a kitten. This Faust of gift giving made me choose between a companion and a way to spend more time with the one I already had (namely him). Much to his chagrin, although I believe he had hedged this bet well, I chose the cat.
So, we searched high and low, PetCos and PetSmarts and any other Pet establishment known to our town and all those bordering it. We found a kitten who hissed, one who ran, one who got adopted when we went back to see her again (a shame since I had already picked out the perfect name for this wayward cat). Needless to say, our search brought us to the APL to adopt an abandoned cat.
The moment our eyes fixed on the little green ones that stared back at us we were putty in her paws. There was a kryptonite quality to the cuteness contained in this being that weighed less than two pounds. She was clearly the one who no one else saw, for her more boisterous siblings had learned the power of playing with the would be parents. But inquisitive and timid this tabby had not been seen by many of the others, she was left for our eyes only.
So, where is this headed, there was promise of a lesson and certainly there have been many in the mere five weeks we've had her in our home. The other day as we sat, a kitten milling between us on the couch nuzzling or reaching out to be in contact with us, we remarked at how much she was thriving. There you had it, our love and hers in return had been the best medicine. Now our Annie has the panache and pizazz of the best and brightest of the litter. She has the sense of security and contentment that only a family can provide.
So sure, my family dropped the ball on that whole kitten thing when I was a kid, and there was that year they threw the misguided surprise party but all in all their love and support has helped me thrive. They have seen me through the hard times, the times when no one saw me, the times when I needed a little medicine that couldn't be provided by a doctor. And although I did not choose these people, as Annie did us, when I look out at the world through adult eyes I realize the importance of family, of a sense of belonging and of the power of love over things that make us worried, stressed or sick. This is particularly poignant now that I am on my own, starting my own "family" if you will. There is something wonderful about my life, and I know it. I am blessed in so many ways but most of all because I have a few homes to go to when the world gets cruel, when my soul or my body is weary, a few places where I can thrive.
Comments