And Cutie is now in the home of a family beholding her with the eyes of love.
Yes, it’s a very Happy New Year indeed, fellow cuteness-lovers.
If we were to rewind just four or five months and tell the September Angela that this cuter-than-ordinary tortie would be adopted in time to ring in 2010, I would have believed it. Sure. I would have just told you that, for that to happen, it would require a miracle. Nothing major. Just something of the parting-the-Red-Sea, turning-water-into-wine, making-Christopher-Walken-unscary magnitude.
Well, far be it from me to say that miracles don’t happen, because Cutie has left the building.
As you may recall, our plump, pretty-faced girl once shared with Max the dubious distinction of occupying Tabby’s Place’s first ever “psychiatric ward.” You may be shocked to learn that we didn’t plan for such a ward when Tabby’s Place was constructed, so we made do by keeping the dotty duo in the bathroom and bedroom of the apartment.
In Max’s case, it was for his own protection that we housed him in his own…well, not-quite-padded cell. When kept in a crate (as cats normally are for their three-week quarantine period), Max has a tantrum of the highest order. Given his known history of mutilating his own tail, we didn’t want to take any chances stressing our high-anxiety tabby, and so he spent those quarantine days safe in the bathroom.
As for Cutie? Let’s just say we like our staff, and facing her wrath by reaching into a crate put them at risk of grievous bodily harm. Even the steeliest staffers would come out of Quarantine shaking like wind socks after brave feats of feeding Cutie. This tortie girl was angry. Not that I could blame her. Cutie came to us as an Exceptional Circumstances cat, after having had her own home and person since kittenhood. When a new roommate came along and bumped her out of her home, she was confused and livid…and no one at Tabby’s Place was immune to her rage.
Well…almost no one.
When Jonathan strolled into Cutie’s room in the “psych ward,” all that was missing was Toscanini music. The tortie with the sad history and bad attitude was in love.
That love affair lasted right up until last week, with Cutie never making any secret of the way she feels about Jon, or anyone else for that matter. Even as she’s improved immensely since moving into cushy Suite B, still Cutie has been…quirky. (Or, not to put to fine a point on it, “hateful,” in the words of one staff member who did everything in her power to win Cutie over.) Through it all, Cutie has always been her cutest, calmest, and happiest in Jonathan’s presence.
Until now, anyway.
Cutie? Attack-proof? Not back in September. But it’s a long way from September to the New Year, and Cutie’s proven herself quite the snuggle-bug around people of her choosing.
I think of it this way. Some folks (of both human and feline varieties) do everything they can to love everyone they meet. Others fake it. And then there are the painfully honest cats and human beans who either like you or they don’t, have no intention to work on liking you more, and will let you know pronto where you stand.
Cutie? Definitely a member of group #3.
But, clearly, when Cutie loves you, it’s love in the third degree. From 2010 into the future, she’s got the complete devotion of a man and a girl she loves dearly. And every cat who gains that is a true miracle.