Nerys

Almost a full year to the day after my cat Chloe died, I visited the local SPCA during their Valentine weekend adopt-a-thon. I planned to stop for just a moment, to look at possibilities. I'd been to the supermarket prior and had a load of meat and other things that needed to be taken home. And I wasn't sure I was 100% ready anyway.

With kittens there's no such thing as 'just a moment'. I stayed at the SPCA for quite some time, playing and trying to choose. There were a couple of white dappled siblings who were very cute but since I still had one older cat at home I couldn't really foist two new friends on him, or in all honesty fund three cats. And there was no way I'd consider taking just one of a pair.

In the meantime, while I was playing, I was also pretty much bawling because I kept remembering Chloe. I told most people who asked if I was okay that I had hay fever. Which probably made them wonder what the heck I was doing there on the floor surrounded by hay fever-makers!

As I was leaving (choice unmade), the staff told me there was a second room and I had no will power to stay out of it. I was looking for a kitten that called to me, and in this room there was a little black female kitten that reminded me of Chloe (though longer-haired). She was very cute and played with the string, and clambered over me. And there was another little kitten, dark as well but male, who was climbing all over my back. When I finally stood up to leave (I was going to do the right thing by taking the night to think things over) this little male kitten had perched on the top of a scratchy pole and was watching me. I noted that he was lighter coloured around his chin.

By the time I left the SPCA I'd been in residence over an hour, but the meat and frozen things weren't spoiled. I now consider it a bit of a sign but that day at the supermarket I'd purchased a big chiller bag, so the meat and frozen things were still nice and chilled!

So, the thinking over night was really more about which kitten I wanted than whether or not I was going to get one. Cliffton had become more friendly since Chloe had died. While he'd often been a bully I think he also missed her and chose to become friends with me. He was my sister's cat and Chloe had generally been the family's cat but both had come to me specifically when my sister moved overseas. This new little kitten would be totally mine and there had to be some sort of a zing between us.

The black female kitten was going to be the one. Why female? Mostly because Chloe was. Male cats seemed standoffish to me.

The kittens had been transferred to one room - the adopt-a-thon had been a pretty good success on the Saturday. Too good, because the black kitten was gone! Just when I was ready... now I had to choose again. Even the little white dappled siblings had gone.

As I crouched on the ground, playing with a kitten, someone clambered all over my back. A staff member delicately unhooked the beast and I saw it was the male kitten from yesterday. Suddenly I remembered him watching me from the post as if to say 'you're going? But why?' and I decided that this kitten had picked me and, despite being male, I was going to take him home.

Imagine mine and the staff member's surprise when she scanned for the microchip and found out that this bold kitten was female. She had been spayed but the hair had grown back so much it was totally unnoticeable, unlike on all the other females. This seemed to cement the fact that this kitten and I belonged.

The feeling was absolutely concrete when I turned the car off in my drive and all I heard was loud purring coming from the box on the passenger side.

The moment I stepped in the house, Cliffton bolted under my bed. I shut the door on him so the kitten could come out and search the house without him being a pain. Funny thing was, a few hours later when she'd seen the house I opened my bedroom door and she made a bee-line under the bed to meet him. In the days to come I don't think he knew what hit him. She was all over him like a rash. In fact, she was giving him the bossy treatment that he had inflicted on Chloe. I couldn't help but start thinking that there was a tiny bit of my old cat in this new one; that Chloe was getting her revenge.

The first night - by which time I'd run through several names in my baby names books and finally chosen Nerys - she slept with me. In fact, she slept on me - draped right over my throat as if she needed to feel my pulse and breathing against her. I had a cold so though she was cuddly warm it was pressure on my throat I didn't quite need! But ever since then, Nerys likes to lie over me. Most of the time it looks seriously uncomfortable - over my legs with her forelegs directly out in front of her, once even right over my stomach like half a bizarre rubber tyre!

We found each other when she was three months old and she will be seven this October. We are as thick as thieves and I hope for many, many years yet.

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Written for April round of "Show Me Your Animal Contest! Closed!" 
Word count: 959