2

Pitiful but shrill little meows made us all jump. It was my brother's birthday and we were standing in the garage that's been made in part of our barn. My eyes were starting to glaze over with all of the car talk when I heard those little cries. I called out, "Here kitty kitty" or something equally inane and suddenly a black kitten came wobbling down the stairs from the hayloft. As soon as I crouched down he came over and circled around me. I reached my hand out and he immediately started nuzzling me. As soon as I started petting him he began to purr. It was not a regular soft little cat purr. He had a full on diesel engine power purr.

Emotions flooded me as I realized that this kitten was meant to own me. Some people think they own their cats but I've had cats all my life and I know the truth. I will sit in a different chair to avoid making them move and I've certainly spent many nights sleeping in awkward positions because I didn't want to move one of my fur-kids. I think the most important part of that black kitten and indeed, all of my animals is not that I rescued them. The truth is that they rescue me.

I am an unstoppable stray feeder. I am constantly putting dishes out for any animals that I see. I'm also one of those people who will carry a mouse outside and relocate them instead of poisoning them or setting traps. I know that I am not meant to own most of these animals. But when I picked up the starving little kitten I knew that we were supposed to be together. Why I had that thought is beyond me. I was living in an apartment at my parents house with 2 cats, 1 dog, 5 birds, and fish. I certainly didn't have room for anymore "children." I was also discussing moving in with my at the time boyfriend who already had a cat and was desperately trying to convince me that I should leave my pets with my parents. Why I knew that this cat would become mine, I just don't know.

My boyfriend was trying to find an ally in any of the people at the barn. In spite of the fact that the kitten's head was a thousand times bigger than his emaciated body he kept stating that he was "fine" and that I should leave him alone. I ran my fingers over his tiny body with his large frame that was stretched tight from his obvious lack of food. The smell of skunk was nearly suffocating but nobody else seemed to notice it was coming from the new love of my life.
A quick look determined he was male and I started thinking of names as I put him on the ground. "If he'll follow me to the house I'm going to at least feed him," I said, very aware of how unpopular this decision was with my boyfriend. But it was not possible for me to care about his opinion any less than I did at that moment. And sure enough, the scrawny little guy that would soon be dubbed Professor Oliver Catkins took off after me, purr at full speed, down to the house. The first bowl of food I gave him disappeared in about ten seconds. I've never seen anything eat with as much hunger. The vet ended up estimating that he was eight months old so he'd been hunting to feed himself for a while but obviously wasn't successful enough to meet the caloric needs of a growing cat.

By the time I was done feeding him and giving him water it was time for board games. But when I shut the bathroom door Oliver panicked. I don't know if it was losing sight of me after I had given him all that food or if it was because someone had already so callously closed a door on him when they threw him away as a kitten. Something in him snapped though. His desperate pleas didn't go long before they were answered. I wrapped him up in a small blanket and cuddled him on my lap. In less than two minutes he was sound asleep. I don't think anyone could have woken him up. I alternated between holding him like a baby and sitting him on my lap. I soon realized how deep his sleep was and my family passed him around. He slept on, oblivious to our murmurs of how adorable his little kitty sleep/coma was. The rag-doll like cuddles were what sealed the deal for my Mum.

I fell in love when I first held him. I fell in love again when he woke up later that evening, spotted my pug, and instantly decided that happiness was snuggling Snickers. Now the sight of black and fawn fur snuggled together is a common thing at my house. My dream of having fur-kids that snuggle has come true. Like a baby duck, Oliver decided that he needed to imprint on something. I now have a cat that rolls over for belly scratches and plays fetch. And he thinks his big brother is the creator of all things catnip or pepperoni.

I've had him for one year, four months, and thirteen days. Whether he is waltzing across my keyboard as I try to write or headbutting me awake at 3am - I am utterly devoted. I often wonder how many people take as much comfort from their animals as I do. I don't need Valium, I have cats. That same sweet power purr of the my newest family member still makes me smile, just like it did the very first day we met.