A cat at last!

 When I was a child, I had two cats.

Tilly was a beautiful tortoiseshell whose main goal in life was pretty much just being comfortable and basking in the sun. She had no interest in hunting and only ventured outside when it was nice and sunny and she could roll around on the warm paving slabs of the patio. 

 

 

My parents got her in the early ‘80s from a friend whose cat had just had a litter of kittens. They hadn’t considered getting her a companion until they went into a pet shop a few days later to get something for my dad’s fish tank and found a single kitten for sale, the only one left from the litter. 

 

They called her Penny, and my mum recalls the moment they introduced the two of them, when Tilly went into full ‘scary kitten’ mode with all her fur up; ears pinned back, spine arched. She learned that day that kittens could growl and was terrified that they’d maul each other during the night. 😂

Luckily the next morning she found them curled up next to each other, fast asleep, and while going forward they got on well, Tilly was always the boss.

A routine vet visit later, ‘Penny’ turned out not to be the girl they thought she was after the pet shop had obviously missed some rather obvious anatomical differences, so he was subsequently renamed Benny, then Benji, then just plain old Ben. 

 

 

He was a handsome black and white moggy, skilled in hunting but without much else going on in his sweet little head. He contributed to Glasgow Museum’s taxidermy collection as any time he brought in a dead bird or rodent in good condition (which was unfortunately often!) it would be wrapped up and put in the freezer until my dad took it into work at the museum and passed them onto the taxidermist. He once accidentally jumped into a fish tank, not realising the glass lid had been removed for cleaning and had a habit of sitting right next to the fire or candles and singeing his fur. 

They both lived good long lives, Ben passing away peacefully in his bed in 1997 after years of kidney problems, and Tilly being put to sleep two years later in 1999 at the age of 18 after what I’m assuming was a cancer diagnosis. I was just a kid back then, so I didn’t do much of the actual day to day care, but I have such fond memories of the two of them. I vividly remember being home sick from school and waking up to find Ben curled up next to me on my bed, and so many memories of Tilly lounging on every soft furnishing we owned, getting cat hair everywhere.

We always intended to get another cat, but with one thing or another it just never happened. My grandparents’ health wasn’t always good which necessitated a lot of travel across the country, and after a while not having a cat became the default.

 

I still managed to spend time with other people's cats over the years, but it just wasn't the same.

 

Miko

Carmen

Tristan

Momo

Mima

Toofs/Boy/No Personal Space

Tiny and Harry

 

 

I always asked what it would take to get another cat, and got excuse after excuse, the main one being that we needed to get the kitchen renovated and that would be very stressful for a cat, so we’d need to do that first. 

Procrastination runs deep in my family, so you won’t be shocked when I tell you that we finally did get the kitchen done…in late 2024. 😒

I’d put my foot down after finally getting my ADHD diagnosed and treated, and knew I had to force the issue or it would never happen. Kitchen first, then cat. I know I could have just gone out and got a cat myself, but when you're not living independently, it's easier said than done, and besides, I wanted this to be a family decison.

 

The renovation was finished in mid December, so I thought that would be fine, and we’d look into getting a cat in the new year…only that didn’t happen. We all talked about it, then procrastinated again and fell into our old patterns of getting nothing done. 

It’s nobody’s fault, having three extremely similarly neurodivergent people in the same house for 36 years will inevitably cause you all to adopt the same habits, and we’re ridiculously good at procrastinating.

Eventually though I’d had enough and found a local rescue that seemed to be well thought of. I sent in my adoption application back in October, and was told I was on their waiting list. I volunteer at my local Oxfam charity shop, and soon got to know one of the rescue’s volunteers after she brought in one of her current foster kittens in a carrier while doing some shopping, and when I asked, incredulously, if she actually  had a kitten in there, she just casually took him out and handed him over for me to say hello! (Best work day EVER!)

 

 

 She assured me that it wouldn’t be long before I’d hear back, and they’d get in touch soon.

So I waited, and waited, and as the months went by I started to think that maybe this just wasn’t destined to happen, and that I’d remain chronically cat-less for life.

Last week the rescue posted about some of the kittens they’d just adopted out and I commented, asking if I could get an update on the waiting list situation.

I didn’t expect to hear back, but the next thing I knew I was being asked when I’d be free for a home visit so they could see if we were a good fit!

Panic stations then ensued; the house was scrubbed and hoovered to within an inch of its life (the image of my mum trying to use a hairdryer to dry the windowsill she’d just cleaned will stay with me for ages 😂) and before we knew it, the owner of the rescue had arrived and was taking notes. 

We were given a seal of approved, and she said she already had a good idea of a couple of cats that would suit us, and would we like to meet them…right now? 🙈

I hadn’t expected things to move so quickly, assuming we’d hopefully be approved and then it would be a week or two before we could see the potential additions to the household, but apparently not!

So we went along and were introduced to a variety of lovely cats. Some were ruled out instantly, due to health conditions that weren’t fully treated yet, some were already reserved and one was very cute but was apparently very fond of jumping up and knocking things off shelves which didn’t appeal to me and my model horse/doll collection as everything’s on open shelves. 😂

The first one I went in to see was Wispa, a rather large lady who was a little reserved, but kept giving me little headbutts when I fussed her. She was very sweet and definitely a contender.

 

The second was another black and white moggy called Sophia, who the lady said she thought would be the perfect fit for us as she was very friendly and loves cuddles. She was about five years old and was abandoned by her previous owners when they moved house. 😤 Unfortunately she wouldn’t come near me, choosing to sit under the ramp of her enclosure, and no amount of psppspsping and lap patting would convince her to come and say hello. The lady said this was very unusual, and she wasn’t normally like that, so I tried not to take it personally.

The next contender was Loki, a very svelte and sleek youngster with the biggest, roundest eyes I've ever seen, who at 3 had just been spayed after weaning her third litter of kittens!  (☹️ Spay and neuter your cats, people! She had her first litter when she still a baby herself and had 19 in total! 😭)

 

She was gorgeous, but was more interested in the door of her room than me or anything else, and was still recovering from her spay, so I knew she wasn’t the one for us.

I really wanted a cat that would want to be around me, that actively sought out affection, and so far I hadn’t seen that with any of them. I felt really quite despondent, and even though I was happy to say nobody suited right now and maybe we’d come back when they had some new cats in, it still felt like all my hopes had been dashed. Wispa had been friendly though, so I thought I’d go and see her again, but when I got back there I impulsively decided to see if Sophia had had a change of heart instead. 

I went into her pen, sat down and this time immediately found myself with a lap full of purrs and kneading paws. I don’t know if something had spooked her earlier, or she hadn’t realised I was in there, but this time round she was aaaall about the cuddles, and I held it together for about a minute before bursting into tears. 🙈😂

So yeah, tomorrow afternoon this lovely lady will be joining our family!

 

 

We've spent the last week buying supplies and trying to cat-proof the house as best as we can, but I'm sure she'll still manage to cause chaos somehow. I’m not overly keen on the name Sophia, so I’ll just have to see what she’s like and if another name will suit her better. She looks very regal and dignified so that may inform any future monikers.

I won’t lie, part of me is terrified that this is happening too fast and I don’t know what I’m doing but it’s been TWENTY SEVEN YEARS since we've last had a cat in this house, so I think I can cut myself a little bit of slack. 😂 Whatever happens she's going to be spoiled rotten and loved to bits.