Monday, October 19, 2009
As trite a saying as it is, you really do need to be careful what you wish for or you just might get it. Take Hedge, for instance, the formerly homeless cat. He wished for a safe, warm place to live where meals appear regularly. He got us. Stephanie, our neighbor and cat fosterer, wished for a good home for little Hedge. She got me. And then there is Carol.
From the moment we adopted Quint, the quintessential cat himself, Carol thought we should also adopt a little female kitten as a companion for him. I was resistant to the idea, since Quint seemed quite content being an only cat. We had our evenings together playing in the kitchen, the three of us together. And during the day, Quint had lots of toys to play with and lots of windows with comfortable ledges where he could sun himself and watch the world go by. It seemed to me that life was going along quite smoothly and that everyone had what they needed, even if Carol didn't have everything she wished for.
But you know how wishes are, they float around looking for a way to come true. Carol's wish was out there manipulating events, changing the course of history, causing things to happen. When we adopted Quint, Hedge hadn't even been born. Because of that one little wish, Hedge came into this world. Somehow he survived his first six months of life and made his way into our back yard. He found Stephanie to help him on his way, but ultimately he ended up in my living room on that fateful Saturday, the fulfillment of a wish made over a year before. No, he wasn't a little female kitten, but with a little salesmanship on my part, Carol tentative agreed to give it a chance. Hedge and Quint bonded immediately, and though Carol sometimes gets discouraged when Hedge runs and hides from his people, she realizes that it's going to take some time for this relationship to evolve. She's mostly okay with that.
Hedge has been with us now almost a month, I guess. Hedge and Quint play together from dawn until noon, at which time they both take a nap until around 4:30 p.m. They chase each other around until dinner time and then there is a brief lull in the activity to take care of after dinner grooming and cat napping needs. Then there is more play until bedtime. Hedge still isn't much of a people cat, though he's getting better about that each day, but he's a wonderful companion for Quint. Quint is proving to be a very good mentor for Hedge, teaching him how to be a cat and showing him that there are at least two people in the world who can be trusted. I feel very certain that before too long, Hedge will be hopping up on my lap insisting that he too needs his teeth and fur brushed, and he'll be hopping up on Carol's lap for some petting and admiration.
As for me, I just want everyone to be happy. And here I am surrounded by people whose wishes are coming true. It's kind of perfect. The only thing that could make it any better is if I could figure out some way to get paid for writing about my cat. Starlight, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might . . . .