A Tale of Two Kitties

When I was just a wee toddler, back in the mists of time that I barely remember, my parents got a calico cat. They let me name her, and because I was still pretty new to the world and had a limited vocabulary, I called her Kitty, and they let that stand. After my parents’ divorce, Kitty ended up with my dad, and because I lived with my mom most of the time, I didn’t get to see Kitty as much. But I adored her. She died when I was…14? 15? I was heartbroken. My dad and step-mom immediately adopted a young calico cat we called Patch. Patch was a sweet cat, and she particularly liked me. (When she got knocked up by a neighborhood tom, Patch had her litter behind my bed.) But she just wasn’t Kitty.

If you’re reading this, you almost certainly know of my little house panther Oberon. He can be a brat, but he’s very attached to me, greets me at the door when I get home, and loves to lie in my lap or curl up next to me. I adopted him from Wayside Waifs 9 and a half years ago and the thought of living without him can bring me to tears. When I adopted him, they told me not to get any more cats because while Oberon is friendly to just about any human he meets, he does not like other cats. I’ve never been sure I could afford having more than one cat anyway, so it’s rare for me to see a cat up for adoption and actually want to adopt it.

But for the first time in almost a decade, I find myself kind of wishing I was catless right now. I received the weekly Wayside Waifs email featuring animals up for adoption and one of them is a female cat named…Kitty. She’s not a calico like my childhood Kitty was, but she sounds like a little darling and I think I’d be a good carer for her. But of course the primary appeal is the name, and it’s hitting me hard in the heart. I truly don’t want to be without Oberon, but I want to think there’s an alternate timeline where I’m adopting this new Kitty now.