I always promised myself I would never become the crazy cat lady. Well, I have come close.
In January of this year I had, had enough of the mice who thought it was more than okay to run freely about my apartment. With the okay of one of my room mates and a shrug from the other I set off to adopt my cat.
It was one of those cold sleety days in late January. But, it was the day that my family would grow.
The Humane Society smelt of diarrhea and the dogs never stopped barking. Over and over I checked and rechecked the small steel cages. I knew I wanted an adult, female. I knew what I wanted but I just couldn't find it. I had almost given up and they were closing soon. I hadn't checked the cages that were hiding behind the open door. I crouched down and there she was. A beautiful brown tabby that looked terrified with the entire noisy goings on.
She looked like the cat I had grown up with. She was perfect.
She was called Mia but I changed it to Mayah. She was mine now.
My roommates and I brought her home. I fussed over her every need for a good few weeks afterwards.
Almost immediately she settled in and promptly became herself. No more shy humane society kitty, no, no.
She squawks when she tries to explain or converse with you. The sound is more along the lines of a baby with bronchitis. Mayah emits this noise when she's hungry, looking for you, bored, curious or when she's hunting.
She claims at least one of my pillows every night and sleeps at the head of the bed; a location she feels more than justified to sleep in.
She sleeps by the door and refuses to move when you're trying to leave. Looking up at you with a look of disdain.
For some strange reason I always feel possessed to leave the television on for her comfort.
She also always sits by my laptop (as she's doing right now) and stares at me as I write, slowly pushing her back end into the photo frame of my mom and I, until it collapses.
All of this will come to a standstill tomorrow. Mayah is making the big journey westward to move in with my grandparents. I'll be away on my internship and I want her to have the attention she feels she deserves (please note the ounce of sarcasm).
The taxi arrives at 6:30 a.m. to take us to the cargo hold for her flight.
She'll probably be squawking as I walk away with tears flooding my eyes and my heart breaking as I move quickly to exit the building.
We'll be reunited at Christmas. But for now sweet feline, bon voyage.
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