Thursday, July 20, 2006
This kitty loves to play with trash. Maybe it's because she's a pet shop kitty. Maybe it's just like my friend says, and they're all completely crazy.
We walked by the pet store on our way to the car and I wanted to go in. J. was a few minutes behind me. When he came in, he asked if I'd seen the gray kitty.
"Nope. I didn't think this pet shop had any kitties today."
"Could we take it home?"
Well, okay, if the price is right. You already know the end of that story. She was the last kitty left from the litter. The lady at the pet store said she sat in her little terrarium and mewed and cried all day. No doubt the pet shop lady would mew and cry all day if locked in a glass box, too.
Poor Shadow didn't have any fur when she came home with us, only sparse gray hair. She sat in my husband's lap inside the crown of my cloth sun hat all the way home. The first night she slept on my pillow, cuddled up in the corner of my shoulder and my head, purring loudly. Every little while I would wake up to feel a coarse, wet kitty tongue licking my ear.
She ate like a horse for the first several months. Her fur grew in quickly. On her first trip to the vets I learned that she's a "dilute tortie". That's tortoiseshell to those of you who aren't in the kitty know. A regular tortie is chocolate and ginger or so, but Shadow is blue and cream. That means gray and beige in English. She has astonishing sea green eyes.
Shadow turned out to be just that, my husband's shadow. She follows him around every waking moment. She sits on his lap a lot, on the keyboard, on the remote control. At night she often cuddles up against one of our legs.
Here she is bringing her toy to play fetch. My husband insisted on buying this baby toy for Ailleanach when my sister was having a baby, but Ailleanach never cared for it too much. It has a rattle in the tail. Shadow's favorite toys, however, are rubber bands and trash. I woke up this morning to find a wood chip next to my pillow. I guess it either came out of the litter or she's chewing up the furniture at night. Newspaper is a good toy, too.
So, we're not sorry we brought her home. We think she's cuter every day.