I’ve been wanting a pet for a long time, but wanted to wait until I could really take care of it. Growing up with three cats and a dog, I loved both, but I know I can’t handle a dog for many years. About six months ago I decided to get a kitten and somehow picked out the name Liz Lemon. Dave and I would talk about imaginary Liz Lemon all the time, both of us anticipating the day I could go pick her out. I settled on Labor Day weekend so I’d have an extra day to get her used to the apartment.
After doing some research I had decided to adopt from Petco. Unfortunately it was like a petting zoo in there, with all sorts of people (including two girls who looked like Ke$ha) just filing through to pet the cats. I got frustrated by all the people crowding the space, and I was disheartened that their rule was kittens must be adopted in pairs, so I walked the six blocks north to Bideawee. It’s a great rescue shelter for cats and dogs that’s much more adept at the adoption process.
I went into a room with about six kittens and immediately knew which one was coming home with me. Shy, in the corner, was a sweet gray kitten. She peeked around the furniture and batted out at the other kittens. Some of the others came to investigate me, but she was wary. I leaned forward and picked her up – she was already purring. I knew she would be a lovable sweetheart; my heart melted.
I did some paperwork, went back to Petco to get supplies, and returned to Bideawee for my new pet. We rode the M15 the ten blocks home together.
Very shy, LL didn’t come out from under my bed for hours. She’s still afraid when I stand up, or move towards her too suddenly. But she loves to play, will chase a ball of newspaper around the apartment now, and licks my face with her sandpaper tongue like I’m her sister.
It’s only been 24 hours, but Lemon has already become one of the family.