In the weeks before and days after putting Crack to sleep, I knew one thing. I did not want another cat. Did not. Not for a long time. Crack was my heart cat. Sure she was a pain in the patootie, and kinda mean and bitchy. But so am I. Crack and I were kindred spirits and no one will ever be like her. Of course, getting a new pet doesn't mean one is trying to replace their lost pet. Not that anything could replace Crack! But I just didn't want anything new in the house. I was too raw, too much lose recently. I just wanted time to heal with my husband and Haiku. And Haiku loved being an "only child" and the center of attention. So, all things considered, things were pretty good.
Not a week afterwards, I was talking to my brother. He told me he'd run into the lady that owns Sara, and she'd asked if he thought I would want Sara back.
Sara in her younger, less well-groomed days
Back, you say? Yep. Waaaaaaay back in the day, Sara was my cat. I had acquired her in an unusual manner, that we're just going to call "Finical was a dumb kid". Anyway. Sara was indeed my cat, and had come with 2 young kittens. I lived in the attic of an old farmhouse which was open plan, and had no way to keep momma kitty away from her babies at weaning time. So Sara went to live with my mom. After a few days I got a message, "You're never getting this cat back!" And so Sara became my mom's cat and everything was great. Unfortunately, when my mom passed away, I couldn't take either of her cats. My brother was able to take in the one, but Crack said HELL NO to having her old buddy back. I was planning on opening my own grooming shop, and a great friend of my mom's said she would take Sara until I got it up and running and could take Sara back as a shop cat. Good deal! And once again, I got a message, "You're never getting this cat back!" But that was okay with me. I knew Sara had a great home. She didn't need to be "mine". She lived in a house with loving people and other animal friends. I saw her all the time for grooming, practice and competitions. Her new owner being incredibly generous with her time and allowing me carte blanche to do whatever creative grooming I could think up.
Some people think she looks mean. I guess it's the curled ears,
round eyes and the broad face. She's not, though. She's a total
I have to admit, I was surprised. I hadn't even considered Sara. I'd been busy dodging offers of kittens, rescue cats, my brother's cats (you wanna cat? we've got extras) more kittens and even my buddy Tiger. Actually, I was probably going to take Tiger, but not right away. I needed some time. But when I saw the offer...I thought, you know, I would like Sara! I immediately spun around in my swivel chair and told my husband. And chattered like a squirrel hopped up on caffeine until finally asking if it would be okay with him. And he told me it would be. He liked Sara, he'd be happy to have her. And as long as I wanted her and was ready to have another cat, it was okay with him. He reminded me that she's an older cat and we might not get to have her for very long. I checked her papers and sure enough, Sara is almost eleven and a half! Wow! She sure doesn't act like it.
I talked to her owner and less than a week later, I had a cat! Sara's pretty unflappable and didn't seem to mind her new home. For the first few days she only wanted to hang out in our utility closet. That was alright, because her litter box was there, and let's be honest, my water heater is pretty rad.
Oh. It's you. "Hi"
Nowadays she's out and about and into everything. She likes to walk on our bookshelf of breakable items. She prefers to sleep in the Middle Of The Sofa, regardless of what else might be on the sofa. She likes to lounge until Ethan's desk and make him feel bad if he accidentally kicks her. And attacks his feet when he's not paying attention. She's unique and funny and weird. We love having her. She makes great squeaky noises. She's the squeakiest cat I've ever heard and it is hilarious! She's a great little cat and I love her.
But she's not Crack.
And that's hard. Last week she figured out how to jump onto the kitchen counters. That's okay in my house. But I saw her sitting on the edge, in the same place and in the same position that Crack used to sit. Looking at me the way Crack used to and it wasn't okay. I was irrationally upset. I moved Sara onto the sofa (amid squeaky protest) and placed my oil diffuser in the spot.
I'm not ready for a cat to hang out on the kitchen counters, apparently.
Humans are WEIRD.
I know, Sara, I know.
We'd had Sara for less than a week before she went to the vet for a check up. We found out she's in excellent health, just needed a dental cleaning and some help for her ears, which have always been a problem. A week after that, she got her teeth cleaned and we found out she had a tooth with the root completely rotted away and another tooth with most of the root gone. Our dear friend Sue handled the procedure and did a great job! Sara came home that evening and was prancing around the house like nothing had ever happened. She seems brighter, so I guess those yucky teeth must have been starting to bother her a little. Yesterday she got another check up and everything is healing up just fine.
And of course she's been bathed and clipped! Yup. Nothing creative (yet!) but I did clip her down into a short comb clip and she's velvety smooth and silky. I plan to put her in an abstract design soon. Just for fun.
And that's the story of Sara. The cat I never expected to have again. She's fit right into the family and we're so happy to have her!