JaHeRo Admirer: A Tail of Two (Okay, Three) Kitties

Part 2 of 3 (Scroll down for Part 1)

Jasmine and I lived a very happy life together for several years. Every once in a while, I toyed with the idea of getting another kitty. I took mental turns projecting contentment and lonliness onto Jasmine. One day, I would think how fun it would be for her to have a companion during the days while I was at work. The next, I was sure she would find the idea repugnant since she would no longer get all of the attention. (I mean, I actually thought it would hurt her feelings and make her mad at me! Oh dear.) Around that time, I had moved to a house that was located blocks away from the Humane Society. One of my favorite things to do was to torture myself looking at cats and kittens - I would stop by "just to see them" in their little cages, but always force myself to leave without any of them. But, one day, I saw this little kitty. She was a little bit bigger (about 12 weeks old) than some of the kittens I'd considered before, but like Jasmine, she just sat at the edge of her little enclosure, watching me while her siblings rolled around and played and ate. She was mostly black - beautiful long, silky black fur with a white star on her chest, white "armpit hair" under each front leg, and her most unique feature - - grey tufts of hair behind each ear. I call them her "ear flaps". I broke the cardinal rule of window shopping, I asked to hold her. She and I had a little talk, but I wanted to be sure I was ready to take on a second pet so I took advantage of the 24-hour hold rule. By the time I got home (literally 5 minutes later) I knew she should be my kitty. I went out the next morning, got a few extra toys, and some kitten food and headed back over to pick her up. When I arrived, I went straght to her little cage...and she was GONE! I asked around. The person I'd worked with the day before was off but evidently, they had neglected to perfom a key step in the 24-hour hold process, which was to actually HOLD the kitty. The woman behind the counter informed me that someone had adopted her about an hour earlier. I was really upset by this point. I'd seen her, held her, and thought of names for her (she was originally going to be "Joey" - I've always loved the Concrete Blonde song of the same name, and I thought it was a cute name with Jasmine...). She was MINE and she was GONE! They said they'd call the family who had adopted her and "ask them" if they would consider bringing her back. They sent me home and said they'd call me when they heard from them. Fortunately, this other family took pity and even though they probably loved her, too, they did bring her back. I raced back to bring her home. Within the first day, even though she was an awkward little adolecent kitten, her silky black fur (which turns to mink brown in the sunlight) and pretty markings told me that the name "Joey" was too tomboy for her. She was a Zoey.

Now, Jasmine wasn't wild about the idea, and she wasted no time in asserting herself. Zoey was fine with that, she just wanted to play play play. It took them some time, but they became buddies. I really did think they'd have a lot more time together. It ended up only being around 4 years. During that time, they each earned their very appropriate nicknames. Pukebucket and Shitass were my babies. Jasmine was famous for wolfing down her food and then puking it back up again. And, poor little Zoey...she had her first "accident" early on, when she came home to live with us she got scared and shat herself. All of that silky long fur - - and after the brief ride home, she looked like she sat in pudding. I thought - hey, it's her first time away from her siblings, I'd probably do the same thing. But it, sadly, was a foreshadowing of things to come. Fierce little Jasmine was like my Guard Cat, but Zoey was more like my Scaredy Cat. I've moved twice since bringing Zoey home that day. Each time during transit to the new place, she's been scared to the point of pooping. Poor little thing.

Since Jasmine died, Zoey has taken on the one woman cat role. She's pretty standoffish around people. Like Jasmine, though, she's so pretty, people want to pet her. A lucky few get that chance, but most of the time she hangs out in places where only I am. She will sit next to me for ages, and just wait to be petted. If she just can't take it any more, she reaches out her paw and places it on my hand, or my arm, or my shoulder - a gentle reminder, "Here I am, see?"

Here they are: