You always hear about people adopting animals. Maybe they found their match online… creepy. Perhaps they decided to spend their money on a posh purebred. Maybe they were content with the animal that showed up at their house and never went away. So all of these stories are shared, but no one really knows how an animal chooses his or her people. I am here to share my
tail tale of how I came to find the suckers lovely people who took me into their hearts.
I was known as just Emily. I was another orphan lost in the system. Before I ended up at a home for abandoned and neglected felines such as myself, I lived a life that some might not think of as too bad. I had a roof over my head and I had food for the most part, but I lacked what any cat needs to survive.
A slave. Love, affection, and worship. These three necessities for a cat’s life are not often found at a common shelter. While the wardens attendants and caretakers do their best, the unfortunate situation is that many cats spend a lifetime, or nine, in a shelter, especially if they are no longer kittens. I had to rise above the rest somehow if I ever wanted to find my way out of this prison.
In this particular shelter, things were not all that bad. My problem was that no one understood me. I was immediately at the bottom of the food chain and even my biological mother wanted nothing to do with me unless that meant pushing me around. My mother, Abby not only made me feel inferior, but she didn’t take too kindly to the fact that I was prettier than she was. Any potential family who visited saw a scared little cat who spent most of her day hiding to avoid all the catty drama. My life was in the litter box and it was time sink my claws in and
con some folk find a forever home.
It was a day like any other. I had just been in a scuffle with this bitch, Fluffy, so I had a little war wound on my eye. This could help or hurt my chances. Should I play up the soon to be scar since I have heard chicks dig them or do I play the sad cat behind green eyes? Sad cat, definitely.
Word around the water bowl was that two folks were coming in who loved to play with the cats. Some of the other
inmates residents had seen these two before. While they never adopted in the past, I knew my chances were good. Today was my day.
I heard the door open and saw the bags in their hands. They were full of toys. Purrfect,
these suckers will spoil me rotten! they will share these toys with all my friends. I have never been one for too much exercise, but I knew I had to put on some kind of a show. So with all my cat-like grace, I pounced on every mouse they sent my way. I killed every feathered concoction they threw at me. I was a warrior. But, every cat knows that people want a mix of warrior and cuddle bug. Phase two had commenced.
I weaved between their legs and they
ate it right up. loved it! Before I knew it, they were scooping me up in their arms like a little baby. While I hate this to no end, I knew this was the moment to seal the deal. I tilted my head back like a movie star and gazed longingly into the young one’s eyes. A few well placed licks to the finger and a little love bite (not too much blood was drawn) and I just knew they were going to take me home.
They placed me back down with the riff raff and a quickly jumped up to the window to watch them outside. Luckily I am skilled in the art of lip reading; also it turns out cats have good hearing. They were going to take me home! I turned to the others and shouted,
“I am outta’ here, bitches!” “Sayonara, suckers!”
“Fare thee well and I wish you all good luck!”
And that is the story of how I chose my people.