So, J gets this idea that he wants to adopt another cat. I was all for it, because I'm a nutjob cat lady, plus Timber and Lucky are technically my cats, and if/when I move out, he will be left catless and lonely. And, btw, I think he's more of a cat lady than I am.
We go the local Humane Society and spend a good 2 hours deciding on a cat. We are both soft hearted pushovers, so we pick one that has been there since July because we decide she has been there much too long, plus in the playroom she was sweet and playful and liked humans (us) and other cats. We bring her home.
This was over 2 days ago. We have seen her exactly twice. Once when we searched the house for an hour straight looking for her, and found her in the lining of the chair which she slipped into through a hole the size of a half-dollar, I swear. So, then we put her in the "cat room" where the litter boxes and food is, and shut the door. A few hours later, I find her wedged between the litter box and the wall in space that a cat should never be able to fit into. I let her out and have not seen her since.
Suffice it to say, she is scared and likes to hide. NOT what we were looking for. When I found Lucky as a tiny kitten and decided to take her in, I knew what I was getting into. I knew she was a stray and wild, and had had no human contact before me. It took me the past 5 months to get her out of her shell, to get her to like attention and to sit on my (and J's) lap, to not run from us and hide. It wasn't easy. I often wondered why I was feeding/vetting/cleaning up the poo of a cat that didn't even like me. I considered bringing her the Humane Society. But I stuck it out, and now she's a wonderful cat.
Great story, right? But we're not going to do it again.
I hope they understand that when we bring her back and pick out another cat.
She needs someone to trust, someone to give her one on one attention and love. We just can't be those people.
Sorry, kitty. I really am.
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