New Cats

This is not a blog only about cats. Except for right now it is.

I have always had cats. I got my first cat when I was about six years old. We'd had other cats, but Susan (named after Susan B Anthony) was my cat (my brother got his cat, TJ, a few months later). For the first four years of college I was catless, but during my last (and fifth) year, I got Dmitrii from the local shelter. some friends and I went to the shelter one afternoon for fun; we all left with cats. Dmitrii was a giant 4-year old Siamese mix. He was an amazing cat. I got Misha four years later when he showed up on the doorstep of some friends. I lost them both seven later--Dmitrii to renal failure and Misha to cancer. Sasha came along two weeks after Dmitrii was gone, Alexsi came along a month after Misha was gone. Fast forward twelve year later, and I was catless.

I told the vet I was worried about going home and not having a cat. I didn't know what to do with myself. It was weird. Parts of it were nice, like having the entire couch to myself. And while I thought it would be weird walking into an empty place, it was weirder not waking up to a cat. Or, really, not having a cat waking me up at 6am to be fed. Without the cat alarm, I found I woke up an hour earlier than normal.

But something was missing. A big something. I'd see something out of the corner of my eye and think it was Alexsi. Sometimes I swear I heard him eating. Or purring. This place was just too quiet and empty. And I wasn't comfortable. I am better when I have a cat. I am calmer.

When I was at the vet on Wednesday, I was telling her about two shelter cats I had seen at a store downtown. Five minutes later she had me convinced to go down there and get them as soon as possible. During our three hours together with Alexsi, we learned we have a similar attitude towards getting new pets after one is gone: Go home, clean, and get new pets. It's a new start.

I know "They" say you need to wait. I don't know who "They" are, but I feel that "They" have caused many to not get a new pet when they wanted and needed one because it would somehow lessen the life of the deceased pets.

I call bullshit.

The only reason it took me two weeks to get Sasha after Dmitrii was gone was because I was out of town for work. Alexsi, well, Sasha wanted Alexsi, not me, but I sure am glad Sasha wanted him. All of my pets have lived on in my memory. None of them were thought less of because I got new pets. Giving them good, long lives is more important than waiting some unspecified amount of time for a new pet.

So, having typed all this, I went to the humane society this morning. And tonight I have two new cats. Kitten, actually. Little bitty kittens. I didn't want little bitty kittens, but that is what I ended up with.

They are pitch black. One is a little bigger than the other. Right now, that's the only way I can tell them apart.

Names: Boris and Ivan. I decided to keep the Russian name tradition alive.

If they ever stop moving I will post pictures.

And you know what? Home feels like home again.