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Yes, we now have a cat. Four dogs, two parakeets, a rabbit and a cat. Oh, and ten turkeys and twenty-two layer hens. Yes, a mental impairment occurred within me yesterday when I took my daughter back to the Oakland County Animal Shelter and adopted a cat.

Sarah and I had only done volunteer duty at the animal center two times. We walked and played with several dogs and then hung out with the cats. Or should I say, this one cat. It was like he knew us. He would ask to be let out of his cage and we would sit with him in our laps in the enclosed cat hall to which he’d been incarcerated and he’d snuggle. Snuggle is the best word because it implies that he returned the affection, of which he did. On our second visit with Tigger the orange snuggle cat, we discovered a PSP sign. This is when the animals go for a last-chance adoption event. Sarah was horrified.

You should have seen Tigger when we came back the third time to take him home. A fair guess would be that he has psychic abilities.

So, now Tigger is laying next to me in the office on his first full day being our cat. He worked the outside dogs into a near state of entire frenzy when they came in last night and met him. He knocked over the parakeets’ cage this morning and it fell apart upon impact. Having a fully integrated sense of morals, he ran from the room guilt-stricken. Starsky and Hutch flew around my room, found a place to land on a picture frame and waited for me to put their small ordered world back together.

When I had, I lifted their cage to them as they perched on my window curtain rod, huddled together and desperately wanting to go home, and they hopped on the cage and back inside. They were delighted to find the other parakeet who lives with them in the cage and is only found in the mirror. They were delighted to find a new slab of seed covered in orange goo on a stick and they were especially happy that Tigger had been banished from the room.

It is hard getting to know new people. Tigger is handling it well as he has the personality of a … a … a cat. Along with a healthy does of laid backism. Not to mention the snuggling trait which won him over even to the “I pretend to be crabby and say no all the time” husband. Cookie the Pug got over him fairly quickly and re-established herself on the throne of small dog. Lily was glad for the new distraction. The outside dogs make me nervous though, so we’ll have to keep our eye on them together. Sugar and Christy and the new cat, Tigger.

Tigger is waiting to go outside. He will have to adjust to never going outside, except in his fantasies. He will have to accept that he can only look at the outside and not touch it. Much the same as my relationship with the wealthy. This is to protect him from many outside dangers – everything from coyotes to turkey vultures to large trucks racing down our driveway. And to protect some of the outside from him – the birds, the chipmunks, my outside dogs.

The moral of this story- you are asking for a cat if you go and work as a volunteer at the animal shelter. Or maybe a dog. There are a lot of nice dogs there………