Dubya’s Adoption Story

This cat adoption story was sent to The Kitty Blog by Ed T, an obvious cat lover if you read his other stories.

A parishioner at our church was a veterinarian who owned and operated a full-service pet hospital nearby. Sandy and I brought Basia in for her first checkup, and mentioned that we were interested in adopting a second cat.

They handled cat adoptions and had several available. We all agreed that another kitten would make the best companion for tiny Basia, so while Basia received her exam our vet brought us into a separate room to evaluate the three available kittens.

“You have to realize that they might be shy here. This isn’t a very natural environment for them.” As our vet said, two of them, long-haired and pug-nosed Persians, climbed inside my jacket and couldn’t be coaxed out.

The third was an orange and white short-haired male who trotted around the room playing with the toys, taking little notice of us.

He had been born at the hospital on August 30, 2000 to a formerly stray mother. She and his siblings had since been adopted; he was the last of his family.

“I don’t know,” I said to Sandy. “He doesn’t seem too impressed with us.”

“Well, I think Basia would get a kick out of him! Just look at him go!”

I was still skeptical but didn’t say anything. We agreed to adopt him.

“OK!” said our vet. “Basia needs another week before her suture removal, so I’ll arrange to have the little guy neutered and ready to come home with you next week.”

Tuesday, November 7, 2000. We voted, picked up Basia and went to the vet. Basia and the little guy met and seemed content with each other, as they explored the room and played with the toys together.

“Well, look at that. They love each other!” I was impressed.

It was only a short ride home so the two of them shared a carrier, with no problems. Then everything changed when we got home and opened the carrier in our front room. He jumped out and starting investigating everything; tables, corners, crevices, couch. Basia, however, was pouncing on him, biting and smacking. When I pulled them apart, Basia let out an angry hiss at him. Annoyed, I gave Basia an imitation hiss, but she looked up at me and hissed back!

It was a night of drama: watching TV and waiting for the results of a hotly contested Presidential election, watching and guarding a new kitten as he explored his new home, and monitoring Basia’s behavior, home with us only two weeks and already resentful of losing her status as an ‘only child’.

We had no idea what to name him. I had planned to name another female “Sade”, after another of my favorite singers, but that wasn’t appropriate for a male. We still called him Sade at first while we discussed possible names. By midnight, the networks projected Bush as the winner in Florida, and thus the new President.

“That’s it!” Sandy exclaimed. “Let’s name him ‘Dubya’!”

Basia’s hostility didn’t last the night. She and Dubya settled into a routine of typical kitten wrestling matches, an exercise regimen that often ended with the two of them cuddled up and napping together.

On Dubya’s third night with us, I woke up at 3 AM with him perched on my chest, purring, big eyes and huge ears. I began petting him, and he stretched out one paw to stroke my moustache. Oh yeah, he’s my guy!

If you’d like to share your cat adoption story, send it to peggy.rowland (at) b5media.com.

(Image by Ed T)