My son never forgets anything. He has a mind like a steel trap. Don’t get me wrong, he’s just as much of a kid as the next kid. Fifteen times a day he says, “You never told me that. I didn’t know I was supposed to do that.” (Yes I did. Yes he did.) Or “I thought you said I could play after I finish my room.” (I didn’t say that.) Or “Mama, you told me I never had to eat broccoli again as long as I live.” (OK, he might be right on that one.) Anyway, that’s not being forgetful. That’s just what kids do. But if it’s something beneficial to him, he never forgets. He’s been having a difficult time at a new school away from his friends. And he’s an only child. So ... I think I probably told him in a moment of weakness that we could get a cat. I know, I know, what was I thinking? I felt sorry for the kid. When he looks at me with those eyes, I just can’t say no.
Let me take a minute to explain something here. I’m a dog person. I’ve always had dogs. I’ve always loved dogs. I’ve never liked cats. But cats are more capable of taking care of themselves when they are home alone during the day. Cats know how to use litter boxes. Cats bathe themselves. Are you seeing a pattern here? I’m lazy and simply don’t have the time to take care of a dog. But that’s not the only thing. Cats are truly miniature versions of one of the big cats, like lions or tigers. They generally come with a lot of attitude, a lot of independence, and a lot of pride. I only need one princess in my home, and that title is already taken.
Thanks to my son’s wonderful memory, I have been bombarded over the past week with questions about when I will get a cat. “Kyle, didn’t I say that MAYBE I would get a cat?” No, you said definitely. “Are you sure? I don’t use the word definitely a lot. That sounds like I made up my mind for sure.” Yes, Mom, you said we are getting a cat, no ifs, ands, or buts. “Great. Just great.” So, last night I break down and go to the pet store to buy pet supplies. No cat yet, but i figure I can placate him for a little while if I buy cat litter, a bag of food, and some cat toys. He would see that the process is starting. However, I forgot that the pet store houses a few animals for the humane society. They sit there staring at you through the glass. Meow, get me out of here. Meow, take me home. It’s just not right. That’s emotional blackmail. I don’t know how they teach those cats to say “take me home,” but it’s just not right.
Luckily for me, the animals were locked up and the lights were turned out in the Adopt These Cats Or Feel Bad About Yourself department. There was the cutest little black and white cat in there and Kyle couldn’t stop looking at it. “Son,” I said, “it’s late. They probably won’t let us adopt a cat tonight. The lights are out in there. Let’s find an employee and ask when we can come back.”
I located Maegan. Or Meegan. Or Magein. Or some variation of that name. It was definitely creatively spelled, I remember that much. She was one of those really annoyingly peppy people. You know the ones ... every day is bright and sunny, all people have goodness inside them, tomorrow will be a better day. I decided that i hated her when she said it really wasn’t too late to adopt the cat and I could take him home right then. What?
