Especially when it’s a very royal dessert sandwich.
We talk a lot on Felis Catus about things working out the way they’re meant to do. Just like a cat who turns himself right-side ’round to land on his feet, life has a way of righting itself eventually. When things aren’t right, we eventually find our mid-course correction. By my accounting, Hydrox has had at least three of those since St. Patrick’s Day.
First, the Big One. Somehow this bright-eyed tuxedo had landed in the abyss: a high-volume, crazy-capacity shelter in New York City. No matter how devoted the staff and how passionate their efforts to find a home for every cat, it simply could not be. When you have hundreds of homeless little ones, a limited budget and even more limited space, the sand is always racing through the hourglass…and time runs out for too many.
Hydrox was down to his last few grains of sand.
But, in the triumph of the “meant to be,” Hydrox’s city shelter had just made it to the top of the Tabby’s Place waiting list. The gentle cookie cat had found a haven with no ticking clock.
What he hadn’t yet found was his real name.
There was never any question that Hydrox would not, could not, must not remain “Oreo” at Tabby’s Place. (Two Oreos – affectionately known as “fat Oreo” and “FIV Oreo” – are plenty.) Jonathan, whose mastery of all facts trivial and tremendous is the eighth wonder of the world, noted that Hydrox cookies were actually invented prior to their more famous competitors. And so our boy found his second merciful meeting with destiny, and his real, true name.
Still, all was not yet right.
From the New York sextet, bouncy blabbermouth King was the first to find a home. Uber-volunteer J. and her husband A., having just lost their beloved Tabby’s Place alum Dempsey, were looking for a very specific cat, and King exceeded their every dream. (Fortunately for all involved, one of their requirements was that their new family member talk…a lot. King talks a lot constantly, to the extent that he hollered himself hoarse while back in Quarantine. And never mind the oft-repeated statistic that cats need 18 hours of sleep a day: this regal lion does not sleep tonight. Sleeping is overrated when you can spend every second yammering.)
King’s adoption? Awesome.
King’s adoption without Hydrox in tow? Sub-awesome.
Although the duo were not a bonded pair when they came to us (in fact, we don’t even know whether they knew each other in New York), savvy J. and A. knew that something was Not Right when they took King home alone. During their weeks of visiting their new monarch in ringworm isolation, J. and A. had become quite sweet on Hydrox as well, and now he was holding their hearts in his grip like the cream filling in a cookie.
Still, they wavered. Three cats was their all-time high, and King had filled the third slot. Hydrox would pump the number in the J./A. household up to an unprecedented four.
But J. and A. were not only savvy: they also belong to the special tribe we call AwesomeAdopters.
You can guess where this story goes.
As I type this post, Hydrox awaits J. and A. in Suite B. Their awesomeness has led them to go slowly, giving King the chance to settle in before sweetening the deal with Hydrox.
My prediction? King’s going to have a lot to say about this…and our Double Stuf duo will soon be double-teaming J. and A. with affection.