Beverly

My husband is really not much of an animal lover. I, on the other hand, couldn't imagine living without some kind of animal in the house. I brought a ten year old dog to the marriage--a beagle mix named Henry who is da bomb. He is the coolest dog ever. Because he loves me, Tom lets Henry sleep in our bedroom and on our furniture, and doesn't complain about me buying copious amounts of bones and collars and shit. I love my husband and I love my dog.

Last week, I decided that I wanted a cat. To my surprise, Tom agreed! (As long as I cleaned out the cat box in my non-pregnant state-- No Problem!) I wanted a kitten, but after visiting nearly every shelter in town we discovered that it was not "kitten season"--I didn't know that there was such a thing. But I really, really wanted a cat and I wanted it THAT DAY. I didn't want to wait until kitten season. I was starting to feel like a five year old.

We decided to try one more place--the humane society on the north side of town. That place makes me so sad, I just want to take every animal in the place home with me to save them from euthanization. Tom and I went in where we were greeted by the Keeper of the Cat House. She was in her sixties, about five feet tall and all boobs. I thought that she might tip over. She also had a very creative hairstyle composed mostly of buns. And she really, really liked cats. Really. Cat Lady said that she at one time had 22 cats at home. What the hell?! Would you eat at her house? Jeebus.

I browsed around and found a little gray kitty with a weird looking face named Juliet. That was the one that I wanted. But Cat Lady said, "You should take a look at my little Garfield." Who names a cat Garfield anymore?
"She doesn't have much time left, she's been here for a long time." Well, that's all I needed to hear. I went straight to Garfield's cage. She had her back to us and was looking pretty defeated as I opened her cage to pick her up. Immediately she starts purring and wraps herself around my head. This was what I needed, and I think that maybe she needed us, too.

So Garfield went home with us and I re-named her Beverly. We took off the horrible paper collar and got her a new spiffy purple one with a bell and a nametag. She and Henry terrorized each other for a few days, but now all is peaceful. She thanks us every day for rescuing her by plopping in our lap every time we sit down. And I think that I figured out why I was so desperate to get a cat, young or old, that day. I had to have something new in the house. We were supposed to bring Nate home with us--he was going to be our someting new. Unfortunately that wasn't going to happen. The baby's room is now Beverly's room, but I just know that we will have another nursery in our house. Someday. I know that there is no way a cat could replace a baby, but Beverly's pretty cool in the meantime.

In other news....
I'm meeting with a personal trainer this afternoon. This should be interesting; I'll let you know how it goes.