I was going into purr withdrawl so I told my husband I was getting a cat. He’s not a cat person and wasn’t thrilled, but he knows who he married. LOL I searched high and low for another Manx, but the few I found weren’t lap cats and that’s one trait I wasn’t willing to compromise on. I actually looked at breeders of American Bobtails and Desert Lynx at one point but the reputable ones want $600+ for a kitten. I have nothing against responsible breeders, but no.
I added big cats, like Maine Coons, to my search. Two rescues kept coming up in my Petfinder over and over, so I decided to just go and spend some time with the kits and see if anyone adopted me. I filled out applications and got pre-approved with both before going. Both are “cage free” so the cats roam their space.
I got to the first one before they officially opened (after coordinating with them to do so). I walked through all of the different rooms, discussed possible fits with the volunteers and spent a good deal of time with a huge ginger they’d rescued from Qatar. When I got ready to go none of the kits had really laid a claim, so I told them I’d take some time and maybe come back that weekend when fostered kits would be there.
They spent the next 10 minutes pressuring me to make a decision. “Which one are you taking home today?” “Who’s she adopting?” “Let’s get this paperwork filled out.” Etc. It killed any desire I had to adopt from them.
I moved on to the next rescue, FurKids, where I met Adoption Counselor* Erika. She is personable, no pressure, and most importantly, she listened to what I wanted. She walked me around the facility to the different rooms. When I said I was fairly open, but would prefer a big male, she asked if I would consider adopting a FIV+ cat.
I had done research on the virus earlier when a Manx I was considering had tested positive. I knew that I have the time, wherewithal, and space to care for a positive kitty. So I said sure. When we entered the room Krieger poked his head out from his hiding place behind a couch and I was instantly smitten. I had no idea such a thing as a Lynx Point Siamese existed, and the sheer beauty of this creature took my breath away. Then he came out, head bumped me, and then promptly went back into hiding. He became mine at that moment.
Then it became a question of who else I’d take. I narrowed it to three, and then decided to come back the next day hoping to talk to the volunteer who worked that room. He had left earlier, but his wife was still there and she called him. They conflabbed and of my choices they said Sterling had the least chance of being adopted. He was super sweet and chill, but didn’t have the big personality and drive to put himself out there that the rest of my short list had.
I adopted them both the same night and scheduled to pick them up the next Monday.
Behavior in a shelter – even an excellent one – is not an indicator of how they’ll be when they get home. Sterling is only a year old but in the shelter I would have sworn he was an old man. After just a few hours at home he was out and asking for pets. Krieger soon followed and has turned out to be pretty bold. Not at all like the shy, hiding scaredy cat seen in the shelter. Neither of them are enthused about the dog, but I’m not too worried. They are big, full grown cats and Mouse is respectful of the teeth and claws even though he still gets too excited to play and snort them.
TL;DR We got two new cats. Expect lots of pictures of the new writing assistants.
*Not sure why, but this title cracks me up.
