No. “No more pets” I had said after our big Yellow Lab and best friend, partner in crime, the drooler, Cooper passed in 2011. The boys and I agreed. Cooper had been with us since Alec was 1 and Andrew was 3. He grew up with the boys and was, in essence, their sibling. He went through the divorce with us and somehow knew to stick by the boy’s side just at the most needed times. He made messes and made us angry and made us laugh and we loved him deeply. He was our Coops the doops. We were all heartbroken when his time arrived and knew that was it. No more pets.
This morning I’ve been up listening to a cat which has learned to come in to our house in the middle of the night to eat and then it leaves. I’ve seen it hanging around outside on a few occasions and it is getting more comfortable being close by. Our other cats don’t seem to mind it too much either. This morning it has been crying outside and I just wish I could hold it and make it feel better.
Like it’s one of my kids.
While I try to figure out what to do I, of course, think of Andrew and how all of this personal crazy cat lady business began. I blame it all on his stubbornness and downright disregard for my wishes.
“Jesus, Andrew. Now I’m up at 4 AM worrying and taking care of a cat which I can’t even pet and I’m not even sure if it will ever let me!”
(oh, mama. YOLO *insert goofy laugh here*)
Kids. They know which buttons to push. Andrew met Katie in high school through a serendipitous event and those two ended up dating for years after. Those two were always at our house when they weren’t either at school or work doing all their we’re so happy together things and life was just rolling along with it’s usual twists and turns. And then that fateful day in the early summer of 2014 arrived.
I pulled up to the house with Rick and I see Andrew and Katie come outside to greet me. I was smiling and waving hello and they were smiling and saying hello when I noticed Andrew was carrying something. Small. Very small. I stopped in my tracks and knew.
There, in his arms, was a tiny little kitten.
“Take it back, Andrew” I said with a stern face.
All the smiles ran away.
Then I actually saw the little kitten. Looked at it.
My eyes saw and my brain processed.
And my heart. And I knew. The kids saw my eyes at that moment and they knew too. All the smiles came running back. And Gizmo became family that day.
Gizmo was the kind of cat who hung out at all the neighbor’s houses. He was adventurous, friendly, smart and very loving. He came home every day. We would call him and he would come home to our calls. Until he didn’t. October of 2015 he went out to play and never came home. We looked everywhere. We had to go pick him up at different places in the past. People would call us from his tag and we would go get him. He was never too far away. He is chipped and once we got a call from the pound because someone found him after he lost his collar and tag and turned him in. He was known all over town. The local police officer who lived in our neighborhood loved him. She took pictures of him inside her cruiser and would send them to me. He was a rock star. We have our suspicions of where he might be but we can’t be sure. I still look for him. You never know.
Gizmo was the first of three cats we ended up with and right now there’s a 4th cat who is quickly becoming “ours” albeit from a distance but still. Here I am at 4 AM figuring out how to get some food into it’s belly. All thanks to Andrew. My lover of nature and animals and sea life. Funny to think I actually said “Take him back”. No. It doesn’t work that way, does it? Not at all. Andrew knew I would never let Giz “go back”.