Today is Holly's 13th birthday. She was still another in my string of
"happy accidents" adoptions. That is, I started out to adopt one type of
cat on each occasion, got one entirely different, and have been happy ever
since that it worked out this way. In fact, I finally learned *never* to
start out with a preconceived notion of what to look for or expect in a
cat.
Go with your heart and use some thoughtfulness in the process. In Holly's
case, I went to our local animal shelter the day after Thanksgiving. I
had
lost my beloved Amber shortly before and knew it was "time" to adopt
another
owner. I had a few days off from work and thought that would be an
op****tune time because I could spend a lot of time with my new adoptee.
However, the animal shelter was closed that day. So, I went to our local
pet supply store. They often had kittens that people had dropped off for
adoption. No such luck! There were no kittens. I got into a
conversation
with one of the women who worked there and told her what I was looking
for.
I was actually looking for a longhaired cat (that was my "preconceived
notion" in this case, arrived at solely because my other cats had been
longhaired and had been such wonderful companions) and also told her that
I
"wouldn't mind" adopting an older cat. She said, "Would you consider..."
and
proceeded to describe Holly. Holly was not longhaired. She was about six
months old, and her origins were truly sad. She was the product of
deliberate breeding where a local "breeder" (I use the term advisedly)
mixed
an Oriental shorthair with a Persian. The breeder was trying to develop a
specific type of cat, and she only wanted dusty grey kittens. Holly is
definitely not dusty grey! She is glorious, gorgeous solid black - not a
single white hair on her body except for a few that grew right at the
incision site from her spay. The breeder was going to euthanize Holly
simply because she was the wrong color. Fortunately, the woman I talked
to
convinced the breeder to let her take Holly and try to find a home for
her.
By the time I entered the store, she had been taking care of Holly for
several months but really could not afford to do that, on top of her own
cats. So, I made arrangements to see Holly the next day, and "the rest is
history," as they say. Ironically, she seemed to be shorthair when I
adopted her, but her coat changed to an unusually thick, plush, velvety
medium length as she matured. Her name was also Jinx at the time I
adopted
her, named because she was black and a "bad luck cat." That was
unacceptable to me! I believe every cat should have a loving name. So,
she
became Holly - short for "holiday cat," so named because she was adopted
in
between the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. I drove back to the
store
about a week after I adopted Holly and gave the woman who had taken care
of
Holly and gave her a check. She was hesitant at first, but I told her I
would have paid a similar amount to adopt through an animal shelter, and
she
had literally saved Holly's life. She was so grateful it almost made me
cry.
I wrote the following for Holly's12th birthday, and I would like to repeat
it for her again this year: Holly is a special, loving girl - my little
shadow, she follows me everywhere. I wake up every morning to find her
close beside me. Sometimes she will awaken me by gently licking the tip
of
my nose (she seems to have a built-in alarm clock because she somehow does
that about 5 minutes before my own alarm goes off). Other times, she will
be stretched out on top of me, and I will not even have been aware of when
she did that. She believes it is one of her duties to march back in forth
in front of the computer monitor as soon as I sit down in front of the
computer. After all, she doesn't want her slave to work too hard (unless
it
involves something especially for her).
She is still playful and active and can gracefully leap to the mantel
without any problem at all. There are times when I will suddenly realize
that she is sitting on the arm of the chair or even on the back of the
chair
above my head, and I was not even aware of her climbing or jumping onto
the
chair. She is incredibly agile and graceful.
Holly has never been a lap cat, although she is always within a few feet
of
wherever I am when I am home. In the past, she would occasionally deign
to
get into my lap, but it was always on her terms and at a time she chose.
However, I have noticed that there have been some recent, subtle changes.
She is getting into my lap more often and will stay longer.
Princess Holly was adopted on Nov. 24, 1995, and she has ruled the
household
ever since (duties that she has shared with Prince Duffy for the last five
years). The two of them have brought an immeasurable amount of joy into
my
life.
Here are four photos I took this week to celebrate her 13th birthday:
http://tinyurl.com/5w5n3w.
(Click on the thumbnails in the left column to
enlarge the picture.)
MaryL
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