Friday, June 18, 2010

Poor cat.

Who would've thought that Brett and I would actually be cat people? Not me, that's for sure. But a couple of years ago, we took in a cat that our friends were getting rid of. He was a little black cat, they'd taken him in as a stray and named him Darth Vader. Being the nerds we are, we kept the name. It was just too funny to change.

After several months of being cat owners, Vader decided to liberate himself. Brett was disappointed, but not terribly broken up about it. I, on the other hand, was really bummed and wanted to get another cat. About a month or so after he ran away, I convinced Brett to adopt a kitten from PetSmart. She was also black, and so tiny! We named her Evey and took her home.

Right from the start I just loved her! She was so feisty and playful. Brett teased me often about picking the feistiest cat in the litter, and it's true. She had two siblings there as well, and both were more docile than Evey. But I just couldn't help it. At any rate, we really got to love the little fluffy creature, far more than either of us expected to. Sure, she was mischievous at times (like when she would inexplicably knead and entire roll of toilet paper....) but she was so playful and affectionate. She would come over when we'd be on the couch watching a movie and climb up on my stomach and just curl up and purr.

For the past few months we've been debating whether to keep her or find her a new home, since we have a baby coming (and having a pet in our new apartment is incredibly expensive). At length we decided to find a new home for her. It was really difficult, because I didn't WANT to get rid of her. I really grew attached to her, as did Brett. Finally, though, we found a girl around our age who wanted a playmate for her cat, who is about the same age as Evey. So we took Evey over to the woman's apartment. Poor kitty.

I have to admit, leaving my cat with another person was really hard, especially knowing that I'm probably never going to see her again. As soon as we walked out of her apartment, I started crying. Of course, I think I can partly blame it on my hormones, but I am really sad. I loved the little furball.

Brett and I have agreed--no more pets until we have a house. There's no way I want to go through that again. Giving up something you love is way too difficult, even when it is for the best.

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