A Cat with Our Name on It

The strangest, most unexpected and rather wonderful thing has happened: my family and I have fallen hard. For a cat.

It all started two weeks ago when I went to the Puppy Palooza pet adoption event organized by T.A.I.L.S. to write an article for Westport Patch. I brought my 5-year-old daughter with me, which probably wasn't my wisest tactical move ever, given that we weren't really in the market for a pet. There were about 100 dogs there, each one cuter and more friendly than the next, all eager for not much more than a warm place to sleep and a bowl of food. It was heart-breaking, all those innocent animals, lots of whom had been underfed or abused but who still had joyful spirits.

And then there was the cat room, where a pile of kittens tumbled and rolled around together. Man, those little balls of fluff were cute. My daughter tugged on my sleeve incessantly, "Please, Mom!" she wailed. "Can we take one home?"

We didn't adopt an animal that day, but we started to seriously consider it. My husband, son and I weren't all that crazy about cats, and we don't have the best track record with pets. Last summer, we dipped our toes in the dog adoption waters and brought home a golden retriever for a two-week trial period. It was tougher and more complicated than we expected. In the end, my husband and I decided not to keep the dog, and I wasn't sure if the kids would ever get over it – or forgive us.  

We did not want to make a mistake like that again. We went to several adoption facilities and scrolled through Petfinder.com endlessly. And then, eventually, we went to P.A.W.S., a facility in Norwalk that arranges about 50 feline adoptions a month. The day we went, they had 180 cats available.

We didn't need to meet many to find the right one. Our coordinator had already narrowed down the list for us, and picked out the best half dozen or so for a family with two small children. In fact, Josephine was the first cat she introduced us to. While her feline roommates ignored us or hid, this one strutted right over, lay down on the floor and stretched herself out long in a shameless invitation to rub her belly. We were taken immediately. The only problem at P.A.W.S. was that there were so many personality-filled cats, it was impossible to choose just one. There was Nemo, a wobbly and curious orange tabby who was smart enough to open a door handle and needed to investigate the contents of my purse. Jane, black as night, was almost as sweet as Josephine. Shelia curled up in a basket and let my kids pet her for ages.   

But in the end, Josie was the one for us. They told us she'd likely be scared when we brought her home and to contain her in a small room for five days until she got used to the sounds and smells and activity in our house. A few hours later, Josie had adjusted and was body slamming herself against the bathroom door, ready to come out and play. Two nights on, she was sleeping at the foot of my daughter's bed. We haven't had a single problem with her. (Knock on wood.)

She's adorable when we find her curled up in a bathroom sink.

She's delightful when she wanders over to snuggle up while we're watching TV.

She's quite entertaining, especially when she pops out of a toy cabinet in surprise — sending checkers flying left and right.

What most surprises me is how easy it all has been. It was easy and inexpensive to adopt our kitty. Easy to incorporate her into our lives. Easy to fall in love with her — even for someone who never considered herself a cat person in the slightest.

I just don't know why we waited so long.

For more information about cats available for adoption, visit http://www.pawsct.org/ or call 203/750-9572. A photo gallery of their available cats can be seen at: http://www.pawsct.org/catgallery.php

Michelle Bowers is a Sunday columnist for Westport Patch. You can also read more about her on her blog www.momonthefrontlines.blogspot.com.