Saturday, February 11, 2006 my mom looked at me and said, “I’m ready.”
I blinked. The statement came out of the blue and I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. The day was already was already stressful, it was the fifth anniversary of my father’s death. My emotions tended to surge on this day, so her statement of “I’m ready” left me confused.
“I’m ready for a cat.”
I blinked again. We’d talked about it. I’d grown up with cats and dogs living in relative peace. My pit bull, Quizz, had always shown a love of cats. Not in the I’m going to eat you and tear you to shreds way, but in the enthusiastic, butt wiggling, I’m your best friend can we play way. This, of course, scared every adult cat away.
So, I said, “Okay.” We packed up the dog and went up to PetSmart and their cat adoption center. The cat center has always been my dog’s favorite place to visit.
Now, Fate is a funny lady. Her sense of humor knows no bounds. We looked at the cats, trying to find one that didn’t have too bad of a reaction to my dog.
Finally the cat lady brought in a handsome Siamese/tabby mix with the most beautiful blue eyes named Charlie. Who took one look at my dog, gave a disdainful MAUW, and stalked back into the room with all the cat kennels. Quizz was in love, he was going to get his very own cat. Mom liked the cat and I thought, “Well, he didn’t hiss or run. This might work.”
So we came home with Charlie. In the car we realized the significance of the date and the name of the cat. My father’s name was Charles. I think my Dad had a hand in placing Charlie in our lives. He rules the house with an iron paw.
I think my father would have enjoyed his namesake, attitude and all.
I miss him.