Forty-Third

We're in love.

We popped into our local Cat Protection League yesterday, to see what we could see. We wanted to be very specific about the kind of cat we would be able to take; male, still quite young (but not a kitten), and not a big bruiser. The reason for this are simple; it's easier to introduce a cat of the opposite sex, and the younger and smaller the new cat is, the less threatened the existing cat is likely to be. Personality was obviously going to be important as well, there would be no point in us agreeing to take a cat that's highly strung and/or unsociable.

So, the layout of the CPL shelter will be familiar to anyone who's ever been in a similar type of place - there's one room with pens/cubicles in which new arrivals, kittens, families or cats with ailments/special needs/social problems are kept. They're usually allowed out one at a time, unless they're kittens or families, in which case only staff are allowed in or allowed to open the pen. We had a good look round there and (successfully) struggled to resist the two sets of kittens there. Another cat looked like it had been on the losing side of an argument with a car; one side of its jaw looked a bit squished, which was very difficult to resist.

There were plenty of pussy cats there that we liked - one in particular was already out and about and wasted no time in curling around my legs and flumping itself on the ground in ecstasy when I started scratching the side of its head. Unfortunately, none of the cats in the pens really suited us, they were either too old or too big for us, and I started to lose hope. We talked with Marilyn, the staff member who oversees the adoptions, told here about our situation and the kind of cat we were looking for.
As an interjection - I felt strangely guilty about laying out our 'terms and conditions' for a cat; when we adopted Annie, we went in without any plans or ideas, which is the way I think it should be, rather than strolling in there and rattling of a list of things you want in your cat or kitten. Unfortunately, we don't really have any other choice - we've got Annie to consider.
Anyway, back on track. After explaining our situation, Marilyn could not have been nicer. She agreed with us that none of the cats in the pens were really suitable for us, so she took us into the part of the shelter where they keep the rest of the cats. It's a very large room, strewn with old furniture, cat trees, climbing frames, boxes, blankets, with litter trays and food in separate corners. I remember that the time we came in to pick up Annie, the room was chock full of cats, but yesterday there was only three; a ginger tabby sprawled out fast asleep in a bed in one corner; a young jet black cat finishing off in one of the litter trays; and another young cat, this one white and fuzzy, sitting in the middle of the room watching us intently.

We went in to investigate, and quickly found out that the black cat wasn't interested in us whatsoever, he'd have a sniff at our hands without bothering, but just was not interested in us beyond that. The white cat was another story altogether. Otis, as we were informed, had come to the centre just recently as a stray. Someone had obviously picked him up and taken care of him at some point, as he had a couple of shaved patches on his hips, presumably where the hair had become matted or filthy. A patch on his tail was a bit bare, and the skin underneath rather red and sore looking - to my eyes it looked like he's had a bad case of fleas, or an allergic reaction to fleas, but it looked like it was healing now.
If that makes it sound like he's a bit scruffy looking, don't be fooled - he is absolutely beautiful. He took to both of us immediately, very friendly and very confident. He was loving the attention from us, making sure he got a good sniff of us and making sure he got a good load of his scent on us at the same time. I got a bit too friendly with him at one point and rubbed his tummy while he was rolling about, and he was quick to give me a good clawing to warn me off - oddly enough, this made me feel better about him - he wasn't really going at me, but he was obviously confident enough to warn me he'd had enough, which he may need around Annie.

We spoke with Marilyn to let her know that we'd made our minds up. Because we'd already adopted (and I think because we're just so nice) she said we wouldn't need another home visit to check us out, and we could indeed take him home right away. That threw us, but we said no, I'm at work all week and my girlfriend is at college most days, so we wouldn't be able to watch over Otis properly. Also, we'll need to get the house cleaned and clear out the spare room (where Otis will be confined for a week at the minimum) before anything else happens.

I've got the next two weeks off, so that'll be perfect for getting Otis settled in, and introducing Annie to him. Commence the panic!!