How do I know my husband loves me? Well, it goes a little like this…
For anyone that has followed Michael and me on Facebook for any length of time, you know that probably 75% of our posts to each other have to do with animals of every size, shape and personality (but especially jerky ones). It generally consists of me showing Michael some adorable, yet completely house-inappropriate animal and begging that he get it for me. Michael comes back with some sort of sarcastic comment and we all laugh and laugh and laugh. I know, we’re weirdos.
But the one type of animal I’ve been serious about lately has been a cat. Specifically, a lap cat. A mellow, sweet and lazy one, to be exact. When I lost Dora and Tyson in the past year, I lost my most affectionate pets and I’ve felt the void.
Michael, being practical, did NOT want another cat, with us already having four pets, and thought I was being silly. It was a firm ‘no’ every time I brought it up. I understood where he was coming from, but he was not getting where I was coming from.
Eventually, we duked it out and I was finally able to get across to him that my desire for a lap cat wasn’t frivolous, like nearly every other animal I mention. I have a very nurturing personality and, having never had kids even though I wanted them and then losing my two cuddliest pets, I was left with a hole that even my snuggly, best-husband-in-the-galaxy could not fill.
After he ‘got it’ and gave me the green light, I ran, not walked, to scour the local animal shelters and looked online until my eyes bled. It was practically a full time job. But I wanted the right fit, not only for me, but for Michael and the rest of our zoo.
My most recent online find was at a nearby, small shelter and because I was worried the cat would get adopted quickly, Michael valiantly offered to go check him out for me while I was at work. He got there right when they opened, only to find the kitty I wanted already adopted. But don’t worry, cause fortunately, I had given him an entire list of cats I wanted to see and he looked at each of them. He even looked at cats not on my list and took a video of his favorite and sent it to me. He then headed to the library to look at yet another kitty from my list and in the meantime, I watched his video and decided I needed China Doll.
The cat at the library was a bust, so at my pleading, Michael headed BACK to the shelter and inquired again about China Doll. We agreed that a ten year old cat wasn’t ideal, but we wanted her and would just enjoy the years we would have left with her. And she became ours!
He found her and adopted her. For me. I feel loved, cherished and overjoyed. As for Michael, he feels that he should never, ever get in trouble again after this. I quickly corrected that misconception, but agreed he would be out of trouble for, like, at least a week! And I’m sure there are some chocolate chip cookies in his future ❤
So meet China Doll, now named Gypsy after Michael’s favorite Stevie Nicks song 🙂