Photo: Top row: FFAR/Petfinder pix. Second Row: two days after coming home with me.
In September 2014, I adopted a kitten now named Tesla. She was the last of her litter because she was a black kitten, and on top of that a polydactyl. Perfectly silky and sweet and teeny and everything I could want in a black cat. A witches’ cat. I have always wanted a black cat because they are more likely to be destroyed, and a black polydactyl because that kiddy would be doubly likely to be destroyed. Also I wear a lot of black and it would be nice to have at least a few pets I could cuddle without everything I’m wearing look like mohair.
So Tess came into our lives. Without my Chicken, I was looking for another lover kiddy. But Tess attached herself to my ex quite readily. She would be in my lap, and then my ex would sit down, and she’d abandon me for his affection quite promptly. OK, fine.
At this time I drank a lot to numb everything, liquid denial. And on top of that, My New Kitten Tesla decided she was actually his. So while I was inebriated, jealous, and angry, I went to Petfinder.com to look at black cats.
Some time during the day at work the next day, someone called me, and I answered the phone without recognizing the number, which is not something I usually do.
L: Hello! How are you doing?
M: Hi there – I’m good! (???)
L: Would you like to meet Stovepipe today?
M: Is that a band?
Yes, I’d completely forgotten everything from the night before. Quickly googling “Stovepipe”, I realized Stovepipe was the name the rescue org had given to him, this giant black street cat. I played it off like I knew wtf was happening, and upon seeing that he was a gorgeous black cat with an epic tail, I thought why the fuck not. I hadn’t asked permission, but I was past the point of caring about that. I agreed to meet Lisa from Furry Friends Animal Rescue behind a McDonalds that night in her SUV, just to see if we connected. (Lisa is now officially my cat-dealer, having helped me get Tabs, and then later Aoife)
I was nervous on arriving, excited to possibly get another kitty. Lisa unlocked the back doors and we hopped in. Tabs was chilling in the passenger seat like he owned the place. After a few exchanges with Lisa, I softly called kiddykiddykiddy and he got up confidently, this skinny, dull-furred, scabbed-up and street-vulnerable cat, and climbed into my lap. He started to make biscuits on my thighs, adopting me immediately.
“How much?”…because I wasn’t letting this angel boy go.
I brought Tabs home, and though he doesn’t get along with Pig, he gets along with, and cares for, all of the other kids, especially the baby girls. He’s my amazingly lovey companion now, my most affectionate cuddle kiddy, even lets me kiss his floofy belleh…and I’m incredibly glad I found him.