Here’s the thing, I adopted a kitty cat this weekend. His name is Mango Cervantes Don Quixote. He’s very sweet and cuddly and wears a bandana. He’s fat and jolly most of the time but can also be deadly serious. At first I thought I wanted a kitten and a female. But when I got to the shelter I met Mango. They were calling him Tommy Boy. But I changed his name. I mean sometimes you just have to make a cat your own. No one wanted him and he had been at the shelter for a long time. He was basically on death row. But that was only because Mango has Feline AIDS. Yeah, too bad and kind of scary. He’s not sick or anything, at least not yet and I figure whatever time he ahs left will be happier spent with me.
When I first decided to get a kitty I quickly learned that adopting a cat is not easy. I mean you’d think mango was a human toddler with all the rigmarole they put me through. I promise I am not telling a lie when I say it took nearly two hours to get the paper work done. Sheesh. I had to promise all sorts of things, sign a loyalty statement, swear that I would never let him outside or send him to Mars in an unmanned spaceship. I had to show seven forms of idea, prove I was a voter and an American and not recruiting cats for some secret spy agency. I mean really folks, it’s a cat.
My friend Rebecca went with me. She knew right away that Mango and I were meant to be together. And she was right. I picked him up and he cuddled with me and then he looked me square in the eyes and well, I said yes.
I think all writers should have a pet. Someday I’ll have a dog. But for now, Mango is just right. He likes to sit at my feet while I work although right now he is lying on my bed, on my laundry sleeping.
Now I have to be honest, I really like him but the whole litter box thing has me a little concerned. Not a big fan of the littler box. But what can I do. I’ve been checking into them. They have some pretty nifty gadgets out there that control odor, clean themselves etc. I can’t afford the self-cleaning one but I’m seriously considering getting a more sophisticated little control system when I can. Something with a lid because as much as I love Mango—he stinks when he poops.
But look, it was worth filling out the paperwork and I really do appreciate the concern the shelter took in checking me out, frisking me for explosives etc. I swear it’s easier to get on an airplane than adopt a cat, but at least they’re trying .At least they care about animals. Except of course for the injured wild fox that was brought in by a concerned citizen while I was filling out paper work. She didn’t appreciate the good people at the shelter. Not sure what happened there but, it’s the SPCA not the zoo.
So, yes, I am the proud Mamma to a fat cat who wears a bandanna and meows when I come home, snuggles at my feet and likes to play with fake mice and chase shadows.
Mango, I think I’ll keep him.
