The Day We Found Miso

By: Elle S (View Profile)

 

Unlike my husband, I’ve had sad experiences with cats. When I was in elementary school, I had a tuxedo cat named Star, who followed me to school one day and never found his way home. We lived in Ecuador at the time, and tried as she did, my mother could not shield me from the rumors of a black market for cats, run by unspeakably evil men who rounded up lost or stolen cats to be poached for their fur and then sold for their meat from which exotic dishes were concocted. Even though my parents assured me that Star found his way to a better home, I was heartbroken.

 

I was still thinking about Star, when my husband said, “Let’s do it. We can check out the animal shelter tomorrow.”

 

 

The next morning, I gazed out the passenger seat window while he drove us to the San Francisco SPCA on 16th Street.

 

“Anything could happen once we open ourselves up to a cat,” I said, trying to remind him how risk averse we both were.

 

“I know,” he said, keeping his eyes steadily on the road while placing his right hand on my lap, “that’s why this will be good for us.”   

 

“What if the cat doesn’t ever get house broken?” I persisted.

 

“That’s an instinct. We’ll set up a litter box for ours in a proper place, somewhere not too big and open, in a low traffic area. She’ll catch on quick, you’ll see.”

 

“This means no more spontaneous overnight trips to Healdsburg.”

 

“How often did we do that anyway? For longer trips, we can always find a good sitter.”  

 

We were quiet for a while. Then he said, “Look, don’t worry. We’ll go down there and just have a look. We’ll bring one home only if we feel it.”

  

I was impressed with the cat wing of the SPCA. Each kitty had its own individual glass condo room, which was equipped with not only the necessities – clean litter box, food and fresh water – but also a tall cat tree, a padded bench or chair, and various toys. Many condos even had televisions playing videos of birds or other critters scurrying about in outdoor settings. We also learned that the SPCA was a no-kill shelter, which meant a kitty got to stay at the SPCA until it could be safely placed in a home.

1 reader liked this story.
share
bookmarks
Comments
posted: 03.12.2007
Veronica Kavanagh
What a lovely story! I predict a long and happy life with Miso. My siamese, Nips, lived almost 20 years and was the best companion you could ever ask for. She was a princess, too!
posted: 03.06.2007
Rebecca Brown
I've always loved the expression "you don't pick your pets, your pets pick you." Sounds like Miso knew what she was doing! Congrats!
Tell us a Story.

You know you've got something to share. Maybe it's something funny, touching, inspirational or informative. Whatever it is, your circle of friends here at DivineCaroline would love to hear from you.

most liked
Loader_buff
Other topics you might appreciate
Play Career & Money Parenting