YOU WERE JUST A CAT

THE ADOPTION

You were just a cat.

But just like the two legged burglar that is named for your species enters a person's home and steals his possessions, so had you entered my life and stolen my heart.

And it wouldn't have happened had our first cat, Columbus, not gone out for his nightly exploration one evening and never returned. After a proper mourning period I, being the indulgent mother (yet rebellious wife) that I am, promised our children they could each pick out a kitten to replace Columbus.

Two kittens to replace one cat seemed like logical math to me, the cat lover in the house.

Interestingly, Paul was in London when I made this promise. I would have some explaining to do when he returned from that business trip.

Having decided that our household did indeed need two kittens we - the kids and I - entered Cats Only and said "We'd like to see your two youngest cats."

Sadly, their two youngest cats were also their two sickest cats.

You, Boomer, had been found by the side of a dumpster, no bigger than a minute, too weak to hold up your head; tossed out like a piece of debris - left for dead.

You were taken to the Humane Society who had decided you were too sick for them to save.

Our Cats Only vet saw you and had different plans for you. She took you in and decided that you were not, after all, one to give up on life.

Within days of your first rescue, in walks this over indulgent mother who wants two kittens - for the children of course. We were told that you would be available for adoption if you made it through the next two weeks.

Your soon to be housemate also needed two weeks of nursing care before she could come home with us. We were willing to wait for both of you.

We were even granted visitation rights while the vet and her staff nursed you back to health. And we took advantage of that privilege and came every few days to look at you, pet you, allow you to get to know us. One day we showed up and a staff member was working who wasn't aware that we had been given special visitation rights. Sadly, I was not the most understanding (soon to be) pet owner and told her in no uncertain terms that YES WE DID TOO HAVE THE RIGHT TO OPEN THAT CAGE AND HOLD THIS KITTEN. WE HAD BEEN DOING IT FOR A WEEK AND I WASN'T GOING TO STOP DOING IT NOW. For the children of course. You just had that effect on us, Boomer. We were drawn to you moments after we met you.

Your first few days at home with us, you spent most of your time curled into our necks - probably seeking warmth. You loved anything shiny and were prone to chewing on necklaces. Your early illness and ongoing recovery, however, did not stop you from immediately establishing your position in the household.

You decided as soon as you walked in the door that the way to deal with the sixty pound Labrador who already lived here was to simply ignore her.

And ignore her you did.

While Bitsy, your fellow adoptee, chose to arch her back, hiss and spit, you would not even glance at the dog. You made it quite clear that this dog who always thought she was the ruler of the house, was not worth your time and would quickly be taken down a notch. Or two.

The king had arrived; he weighed less than a pound and his name was Boomer.