The kids have been begging us for a pet for some time. I didn't want the extra responsibility so I lied. I told them that I was allergic to all pets. I struggle with keeping the family fed, watered, cleaned and loved on a daily basis; adding a pet to the equation is just crazy.
Then I thought I saw a mouse.
I hate mice more than having to change a cat's litter box so we headed to our local APL.
As we toured the cat and kitten area of the APL, the kids riddled me with questions like, "I thought you were allergic?" and "will he have to go back if you can't breathe?"
It was not just me that got bombarded with questions. The kids also asked the APL staff questions like, "do you have a cat that won't make my mom allergic?" and "can we really get a cat if she's allergic?"
Having to tell the APL staff that I lied about having an allergy was humbling, especially when they were determining if I should be allowed to adopt. Somehow, I was approved.
There are so many cats and kittens that need homes. I thought it would be impossible to pick just one cat until one picked us.
I had criteria and even stalked the APL website before going to pick out our cat. I liked several black cats between one and two years old. My last cat was an orange tabby, but he died. I loved that cat and did not want one that looked like him.
I also knew that getting a kitten was out of the question. If there really was a mouse, I needed a cat who knew what to do and would take care of it.
When I say that our cat picked us I'm not exaggerating, he really did pick us. Every cat and kitten ignored us except him. He even pressed his face up against the glass when my daughter left the play area.
In the end, the decision was easy. I could not say no to that sweet face smooshed up against the window. We brought our tabby cat home with us that night.
We spent the ride home deciding on a name. He came with a very pedestrian and boring name that has been forgotten. The kids and I really liked Thor, but baby girl is missing a tooth so Thor did not sound like Thor at all. Tiger summed up what we thought he would be and we all agreed.
I was worried that he may be too old, at the ripe old age of eight but he is infinitely patient with my five-year-old trying to love him, carry him and pretty much baby him. And, he is teaching the oldest responsibility since he is in charge of the kitty litter. He rarely forgets.
Tiger the Tabby is now part of our family.