The vet thought Not Cat perfect. She said so several times. She looked almost eager when she pronounced him between twelve and eighteen months. He may grow a little more, but he’s not going to be in Cat’s league for size. “Is that alright?” she said, “I’ll have him if you don’t want him.” I was a bit taken aback, then remembered we’d had the conversation about me wanting an older cat.
It seems everyone who sees Not Cat loves him on sight. Except me. I like him, I’m fond of him, but I don’t yet love him. I hope and expect I shall. But I didn’t love Cat at once. I don’t remember how long it took. My father proposed to my mother after two weeks. He may have taken longer over his dogs, but I don’t think so. I evidently have a slower burning fuse.
The vet exclaimed over Not Cat’s perfect teeth; loved his perfect looks. I pointed out his perfect whiskers just in case she’d missed them, showed her his perfect fig leaf. Not a yowl or a cry as he had his vaccinations. He didn’t seem too keen on the scan that revealed no microchip in place. He got off the table and hid under the cabinet while we humans discussed possible names. She favours the one I think I’m settling on. He poked his nose out and she lifted him up. He went back in the basket. She opened it again to admire his pink nose. He lifted his face to hers.
So I came home without him. No, I hadn’t given him to the vet for ever and a day. He’s staying in overnight to have his testicles removed. She told me I could ring in the morning but there wouldn’t be any news until late in the afternoon. She remembers my anguished calls when Cat had to stay over. It’s alright, I assured her. I haven’t bonded with him yet. I’ll be fine. She told me she loved him already. But as I handed him over, I felt a tug, a wrench. Hmm. Maybe we are bonding. If she tells me something awful has happened to him on the operating table, I’ll get a search warrant out for her home.
When I got home, there was a ‘phone message from a neighbour, desperate to know what the microchip scan had revealed. I called her back to reassure her. We discussed names. She doesn’t like any of my top three and was quite dismissive of them. I felt my hackles rise. He’s my cat, I thought. And suddenly realised the possessive gene was kicking in.
Yes Munchkin. You’re My Cat now. You’re coming home to stay.
Hooray!!!!!!!
Oh dear, has it been an anxious day?
No – just hoping the best fro you.
So many names to consider. Is Munchkin what you are going with?
It’s good that he’s younger. It will be easier to accustom him to traveling around, especially in the boat. He seems fairly intrepid though and very trusting. I think he looks adorable. A real sweetheart. More pix, please.
You may have a slow burning fuse, but it is definitely lit and its getting close!
Yes, more pictures please – a whole slideshow perhaps? 😀
I’ll get some more pix and post them soon.
Munchkin is not going to be his name, but it is what I’ve been calling him most of the time. It’ll be his pet name I suspect, at least until he grows up.
I’m down to three or four names, but I think I know which one I’m going for. Here, he’ll be Not Cat to protect his anonymity.
Cat is in the background like a godfather; I feel his presence as a benign but slightly sceptical older statesman, watching me get to know this youngster, seeing my mistakes, and reminding me that the journey is worth it.
I wonder what Cat would have made of him in the flesh….. territorial and aggressive or benign acceptance of a young boy?
No question; he’d hate him. Cat loved people, needed people, hated other cats and did not see the point of them. I think Not Cat, for all his prettiness and slight build, is going to be a lot more independent than Cat, who had to have close human contact and boundless affection. But he is Cat’s legacy, as without Cat, who opened my eyes and heart to cats, I would not have adopted Not Cat.
Maybe Not Cat needs to be different for you to appreciate both him and Cat?
I think, in time, especially with such a young cat, you will rub off on him and he may develop similarities to Cat.
In that case I’d better call him Napoleon!
By luck rather than judgement, I think I have a cat who is very different to Cat, so I have to get to know him in his own right. Some of his energy reminds of Cat in his youth, things I had all but forgotten, but Cat’s love of human company and desire for physical closeness was there before I met him. And he kept expanding his public right up to the week he died.
Lovely. So pleased for you 🙂
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I like Not Cat. For a name.
It’s quirky and cool and different and clever and a bit witty.
I don’t care if you call him Munchkin(?!!!), he’s Not Cat to me and I shall always call him that.
So there.
Fine Badger. You do that!
He now has an official name, but I shall continue to call him Munchkin sometimes I’m quite sure. Also lots of other names I suspect.
p.s.
lots of pics please.
I’ve just discovered it’s a very young cat! I have to read back through all the posts I’ve missed during the past Easter holidays to discover how you two met and got together. How he allowed you to adpot him and start loving him. I think he has adopted you already. Am I wrong?
No he’s mine now Maria. Or ,maybe I should say I am his…