A few weeks ago I found a cat...
well, actually, it was the cat that found me.
She was young, probably no older than a year. Tiny for her age, and very thin. Emaciated was also a given, being that she was a stray, but she looked healthy and bright other than that. With bright gold green eyes that reminded me of rays of sunlight poking in through a forest canopy.
She was a tuxedo girl, long black fur along her back and tail and white for her legs and underbelly. Her face looked a bit like a zorro mask, with the black wrapping around to her nose but letting everything else be white; exept for the black blotch on her chin, and the white marking on her forhead that had at first reminded me of a parralellogram, but then it quickly dawned on me that it looked like a third eye in her forhead.
When I first met her, it was amazing how much I needed a friend. At that time my signifigant other (whom I love and miss very much) was sent with his family to visit some friends in another state, a "self discovery" mission. He didnt' want to go, but he was forced, and we could hardly talk to each other via email, phone, or instant messaging because of this fact.
So of course I was desperate for some loving attention from someone other than my father, who was stressed out because of the divorce that he was going through, trying to escape his wife and my mother.
Anyway, on the first day i met her, it was nearing evening. I had a friend over to spend the night, as it was summer and we were out of school, and had lots of free time on our hands. Her boyfriend had decided to stop by to say hello to her, and as they were off to the side talking to each other and having a slightly romantic moment, I was left alone to my thoughts.
I was about to go back inside and let my friend come in when she wanted to, when I heard a "MEOW!" behind me.
I spun around to see that it was this young feline, small and bright eyed and looking very awake and interested in me. I reach over to let her sniff my hand, and she immediately starts purring like a 747 jet engine, butting her head against my hand.
The first thing going on in my head was why this young cat was over here, as the landlord doesn't allow felines, indoor OR outdoor, anywhere on her property. I wondered where her owners where, or if she had been abandoned since she must have just lost her kittenhood, if she had a name. Then suddenly it hit me like a bulldozer would a milk carton: "CLOVER!!!!!!"
It was a very random thought, but there was obviously a reason for it. I've read books about how cats can have psychic connections with people they trust, perhaps this was her way of telling me her name...?
No, of course not. I'm just a stranger that she met just now, what interest would she have in me other than a simple pet before she went on her way.
Well, you wouldn't believe how wrong I was.
She followed me around all the rest of the evening, and when I went inside, I could hear her meowing out there for my attention. I didn't dare bring her inside, as such an act could get me and my father evicted, but I couldn't just let her stay out there alone. I snuck a small meal out with me (not exactly the brightest idea, I suppose, but she was so thin!), the last of the sandwich meat and a leftover burger from the night before. I wasn't sure how she'd take to boca burgers, but they taste like meat, and in all actualities they aren't much different than most cat foods, which some are now almost 70-80% veggitable matter.
Anyway, she ate like a... like a... well, like a starving cat. She snarfed it down in seconds. I was tempted on getting her more, but I was afraid that she would eat til she could burst, as she was small, and I was sure that the meal I had already supplied her would fill her up.
As soon as she finished eating she promptly went on a quick grooming spree, cleaning her paws and her whiskers and adorable kitty cheeks, then yet again promptly jumped onto my lap and curled into a little ball and dozed, her jet engine purr going off at full tilt.
She wouldn't leave our small porch area for the rest of the night, or really for the next several days, except to sleep in a small tree/bush near the car ports and perhaps to hunt for mice or something in the nearby wetlands.
She meowed for me even when she hadn't even seen me or heard me, and she knew which window to sleep under at night, every night, to meow a good morning to every morning.
After a few nights, I realized that she was not going to be going away any time soon, and the cat that my father had promised me when we moved to a better place seemed to have come a few months early.
Clover may have come a several months early to live with me, but she came at just when I needed a friend most.
Of course, when I tell my father that this was the cat that I wanted, he was furious.
We can't keep a cat here! How are you going to take care of it? he asked me
Well, I wanted to see if a friend could take care of her for a few months until we move out to a better place.
He took what I said with MUCH skepticism, as I have been known to be a bit of a lazy sort of person, preferring to sit on my ass and read or draw my comics than to do much work around the house.
But I persisted.
At one point I even took her to Astoria with me and my father to visit a friend of the family, who said that though she couldn't take care of her, she was welcome to come and visit.
She didn't much like the car ride, but she fit in very well in the house, and curled up next to me to sleep every night after her explorations, her jet engine rolling away happily until she fell asleep to my petting her.
The first place I called was of a close friend of mine, Dannielle, who's had many a rescued cat in her house over the years that I've known her. But no, she didn't have enough room, they had four cats, and their landlord was stretching it with that. They couldn't afford more than that.
Dead end there.
I turned around and asked about the Humaine Society here, to see if they had a sheltering program.
No. They took in strays and as soon as they set foot in the kennels they were put up for adoption.
My greedy heart wouldn't allow me to put her there, for I wanted her for myself, and I just knew that if I allowed her to go there, she would be gone in an instant; being the wonderful and loving girl that she is.
Dannielle then calls me, telling me of a friend of hers, and mine, who was getting back to town in a few days, and that I should ask her if she would be willing to take her in.
I set to emailing her immediately.
She replies: Yes, of course I can take care of Clover for you!
It was the miracle of the day.
So we take her to the vet to get her some shots, get her checked out for feline leukemia and feline aids, neither of which she had-thank god!- and bought her a good supply of feline goods. A toy (we're a bit tight on funds, so we couldnt' get more than one. Plus she'd have plenty once she got to Melinda's place, along with other cats.), a litter box, food, dishes, and a few other things, including flee drops, to get rid of those pesky critters.
She is now happily staying at Melinda's house, queen of the temporary castle, gaining weight steadily and flee free, with feline friends abound.
I'm so glad that I have such good friends with me, and that I have such a wonderful feline. I just wish she could be living with me, as my greedy heart is yet again jealous that Melinda gets to have Clover curled up next to her with her jet engine when she sleeps instead of me.
