Yesterday, some boys brought a little lost black kitten into the school. Their teacher brought this kitten into our office and the fate of the kitty was discussed.
My heart ached for this little black hairball. It (the gender of said fur ball remains unknown to me) was younger than our cat was when he found us. But the memories of our little black (then) adolescent cat came rushing back to the surface.
Our cat was thrown over the fence and into our yard during the school lunch hour in September, 2000. Middle Son rescued this little cat and harbored him in his room over lunch. When it came time to go back to school, he told me that he had a cat in his room and begged/instructed me not to make any rash decisions about the cat until he came home after school.
Long story short, 11 years later ... that little black cat is a vital part of our family. Each and every one of us adore our cat and can't imagine our life without him.
I admired the little black kitten yesterday and when no one else in our office could adopt him, I wondered if fate may have dropped another ball of fluff into our family's lives.
I held him and though he (it) was friendly and liked people ... he (it) didn't purr. Our cat purred with abandon when we first met. I'll never forget my first impression of that gangly, black teen-age cat. His monstrous purr ... and bad, bad gas.
Yesterday's little kitten had neither. I was still tempted to bring him home with me when ...
... a teacher walked into the room and it was love at first sight. I had to answer the phone at that moment so I relinquished the cat to her and I overheard her speak of all of the cousins that this kitten would have in her family if she took it home.
That was the last I saw of the kitten. I had no second thoughts or regrets. I was saved by a cat-lover.
But I had a most marvellous moment, as I stepped back in time and remembered the day when our little black kitty found us.