My dog-loving, allergy-ridden, feline-fearing husband bought our children a cat.
He had found a friendly kitten when he took the girls to a store where the Humane Society was having an event. I was at a meeting, and he couldn’t get me on the phone, so with tear-stricken children, he left without her.
We were back by the same store the following weekend, and I told him, “Wouldn’t it be funny if she was still there?”
He maintained there was no way. She was a sweet, pretty kitten who liked people. We both expected she would be snatched right up the second he had left her behind.
Well, she wasn’t. Due to a technicality, they couldn’t adopt her out during the event the weekend prior.
She was still there, mewing at the crate door and putting her tiny paw right up to the grate.
My girls remembered her, and they were in love once again.
And my husband took one look at me, sighed, and said, “OK. Let’s do this.”
Two years of begging for a cat, and the women in this family had finally won.
Sweet little Elsa became her name, much like any pet adopted in the last two years into a house with Frozen fans.
And we loaded up the cart with litter, food, scratching posts, and all manner of cat necessities. We were in.
Though I like cats, I have never had one. And I’m excited to find out if what I suspected is true; I think I am a cat lady.
Of course, this means another living thing I soon have to keep alive during the next deployment.
We get to move next year, with three children, a dog, and now, a cat.
The kitten thinks she’s in a pack and wants to sleep with us; how do I train her not to, when we have a new baby snuggled in my lap for a midnight feeding in a few months?
How to break her heart when she realizes the man of the house deploys frequently, taking with him the broad chest she’s learned to cuddle on and purr at while he snores in a language she seems to understand?
Elsa, like the rest of us, will have to fit this funny little mold we fill as a military family.
Welcome to the pack, Elsa. Hold on for a wild ride.