I didn’t set out to be a cat person. I even had a career as a dogwalker and rescuer and would probably have a pack of 10 dogs if I were able.
But then I moved from the city to the country and mice chewed through my brand new Subaru’s fuel line (didn’t know that was a thing!) And I set out to rescue a mean nasty, possibly one eyed old barn cat who needed a home and didnt like people, to live on our yard while protecting it from varmints.
This brought me to The Orange County Virginia shelter. I had picked out a scary looking feline online and arrived one afternoon with my enthusiastic 2yr old to collect my new yard protector.
The wonderful shelter person took us to view said feline in the “cat room” and as she began to tell me how this cat loves to attack children and is madder than a wet hen, my toddler was screaming in glee, jumping up and down and smacking his hand on the cage of another cat.
I quickly asked if the cat my toddler was screaming at liked kids (I had started visualizing my innocent baby with mean cats scratches all over his body just from playing in the yard). She said yes, and the next thing I knew we were home with a cat in a cardboard box and I couldn’t even remember what she looked like.
And that is how Minnow joined our family. She was dropped at the shelter because she didn’t like to be held (I can’t keep her off my lap) and has since murdered plenty of mice (oh GOD and so many birds, how do I focus her?) And greets me every morning to walk the dog together with my coffee.
I was officially a cat person.