I waited for you

I waited for you for what feel like so long. I know it wasn’t really that long. But, boy did it feel like it. The first time I held you in my arms you were so little, so vulnerable. All claws and scratches wanting to be put back down because you were so scared. I was too, but I knew given time we would be inseparable. However, before that day there were the preparations needed to be done for your arrival.

I needed to kitten proof the house, find the right bowls, mess mats, litter box, litter and food. I spent hours browsing in shops and online finding the perfect toys I thought you would like. As a first time cat mam I wanted everything to be the best I could get for you. The stress, the over spending to make sure you had everything and more to make you feel comfortable. To show you that you would be loved and looked after.

I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m not good with living things. I can kill a cactus for crying out loud! And don’t get me started on my two goldfish I won at fairs. (Colin Bubbles, two weeks and Smarties, 4 Weeks.) I’m older now though. More responsible, apparently. I had a hard time imagining what it would be like to have you here. It didn’t seem real. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live with you. To be responsible for you. Would I remember to feed you? I barely remember to feed myself. It was a tense eight weeks.

I pin-balled day to day. Was I ready? Was I not? Would it be better for both of us if I said no to my home? Then you could go to a loving family with children to play with. Or maybe someone with other cats or kittens so you wouldn’t be alone. As a solitary creature myself would I know how to give love to an equally solitary animal as a cat? Would we get along, just us two? I’d been alone for so long I hated visitors after half an hour. Never mind a companion cat. I didn’t look where I walked, would I kick you? What about my darts habit? What if a dart bounced out of the board and hit you, hurt you? Would I have to stop playing to make the house safer for you? My head swam with unanswered questions and doubts. Then the day arrived, your homecoming.

I remember going to pick you up with my friend. I looked at you and your siblings playing. I’d seen pictures of you but, I couldn’t pick you out. I bit my lip. I thought (stupidly) that some sort of intuition would make me sense which kitten you were. It didn’t. I started to worry again that I’d made a mistake. I was already a terrible (cat) mam.

Then my friend spotted you and plonked you unceremoniously in my arms. You squeaked in shock, then went still. Too scared like me to move. Then, my little fighter, you fought. you meowed in frightened squeaks, scratched and pulled to be released. I wouldn’t let you. I knew then, you were mine. Our first cuddle was cut short as my friend grabbed you and placed you into the cat carrier. Then we were off. You squeaked and quivered in the carrier on my lap all they way home in the car. So small, so helpless. My friend and I took you up to my bedroom where you would be living for the first few weeks. Then she left. Tough love to help us get acquainted and bond alone she had said.

It was just us. Just you and me. You were so scared you ran and hid behind the life size cardboard cut out of Captain Jack Sparrow. That’s the story of how you got your name, Jack. I tried to coax you out. You were still too scared, so I left you to it and just watched. It was hard to listen to your pitiful scared meow’s.

You came out from behind the cut out rarely that first day. When you did you seemed to be looking for your cat family. You ran away every time I tried to get near you so I stopped. I trusted in time you would get used to my presence.

You ate for the first time early on the second day. You must have been starving. I don’t think I slept at all that night. I could’t take my eyes off you for fear that you were a dream that would disappear when I woke the next morning.

You started exploring that second day, becoming more adventurous every hour. you jumped on the chair by the window to see outside. You got nearer to me too. Once or twice you even let me pet you. Only for a second, I felt the trust developing.

I slept when you slept on night two. Like a mother with a new born baby. Waking every time you moved.

On day three, We played. It was just a bit of wool dangled in front of you but, you loved it. You sat next to me on the bed and watched TV with me, while I stroked your soft kitten fur for a whole five minutes! Then you left. It had felt good though. I felt hopeful for us. We napped in the afternoon and then played again. We were getting along fine.

Night three. I was so tired. I fell asleep as soon as I was sure you had. It must have been a dead sleep because when I woke up in the soft morning light. I was still facing where you had fallen asleep. you weren’t there. My heart stopped in my chest, I couldn’t breathe. Where were you? I let out my own squeak that rivalled your own first frightened squeak.

“Jack!”

I felt a warm patch by back I hadn’t noticed before and slowly, carefully turned around. There you were. I put my arm around you, You snuggled against it, yawned then fell back asleep on me. I smiled down at you, closed my own eyes and went back to sleep myself, safe in the knowledge that I’d found what I didn’t realise I’d waited for my entire life.

Love.