In December 2017, an early Christmas gift to me was the opportunity to adopt a cat from a local shelter. Being an animal lover, I’d missed having a furry companion and was looking forward to it.
The original agreement was to select a cat after family vacations at Christmas. About a week later after this announcement it seemed only prudent to go ahead to the local pet store to purchase some basic elements (food, food / water dispenser, litter, litter box). You know, just on the off-chance I found our new family member early one didn’t want to be caught unprepared.
I’m pretty sure my rationale was completely transparent. On arriving at the pet store that also just happened to showcase local shelter animals up for adoption, I zeroed in on a kitten. It was a cute-as-pie little mass of beautiful gray fluff, huge paws, and large ears. I could have disappeared into the fur tufts between his tow beans.
My pleas seemed to be getting me nowhere. After many walks through the aisles cajoling my spouse, I was told I could choose a cat early but only if I went to the local shelter to see all the possible cats, first.
Once there, we looked at every cat. I focused on the least adoptable choices: The elderly, the blind or those with less than four legs. I asked my husband, “See any that really speak to you or you like?”. I was met with, “Eh, maybe.”
We made a second circle of the circuit of the walls of crates. When I asked again, he nodded to a crate where a tiny black kitten with startling gold eyes was snuggled next to a sibling kitten who was creamy buff in color. When I prodded further if this was one he wanted to see, I got a shrug and a “We can.”
We were ushered to the meet and greet room. I was conflicted at considering what appeared to be an otherwise healthy and normal cat vs. other cats who would need tremendous care (that I being a home-based worker could provide). I got settled on the concrete floor to ensure it saw me first and felt comfortable approaching me.
As you might have guessed, when the volunteer arrived with the little dollop of fur, we waited quietly for her to get comfortable figuring it would take some warming up.
And totally ignoring me on the floor, my Christmas present eyed my other half who was sitting in a chair in the corner with arms crossed looking stoic. Smart little thing, she read the room and knew who had to be convinced.
This miniature panther made a beeline to him with all of her tail straight up in the air, and jumped directly into his lap where she turned 2 times, sat down and purred. I was in shock. This had never happened before with any animal in my presence. I was not even looked at. But I took it on the chin and went with it. We had been chosen, not the other way around.
And so, we drove home with a 4-month-old kitten.
The charade went on once we got home. She wouldn’t let me pick her up and was not interested in snuggles or cuddles. I was heartbroken thinking how could this be? And how would this cat-relationship work now? My husband assured me over and over it would all be fine.
We struggled for days as to what to name her. She reminded us of most was the DreamWorks movie, “How to Train Your Dragon” where one of the main characters is an animated black dragon named Toothless. This was a rare dragon called a Night Fury who came into his own special powers through overcoming obstacles. Fury the cat she became. There was something endearing that such a contrast in a ferocious name fitting such a lovable personality.
Within a few days, thankfully, roles had totally reversed. I’m not sure if my husband sat her down and had a special kitty conversation, but I finally became her person and we have remained a pair ever since.
Fury continues to be a furry force of love and fun and I’ll share those adventures with pictures as we go along.
