Well, Zoey is number four. She was the fourth animal to steal my heart as an adult and enter into my home. She joined, at the time, five-year-old Mya (a Labrador mix) and two eight-month-old kittens, Lily and Lucy. Zoey was the surprise I surely didn’t expect…I had gone from one pet – Mya – to four pets in less than a year. The strange thing was that I actually had a sort of “premonition” about Zoey the day before I met her.
On Mother’s Day 2007, I was shopping at PetSmart and stopped to check out the adoptable cats. There, sitting in his kennel, was Scooter. Scooter was a handsome all-black male cat and he was paraplegic. I noticed right away that he had a special donation jar above his cage with a story. The adoption group was collecting donations to buy Scooter a wheelchair. I thought that was pretty neat so I slipped a $10 bill into the container, talked to Scooter, and silently criticized the adoption group for not being there first thing in the morning to clean out his kennel. Scooter had pooped in his water bowl. I alerted the manager to the situation and expressed my dismay, saying that I would have cleaned it out myself if the kennel hadn’t been padlocked. Shortly after, I wished Scooter good luck, made my purchases, and headed home.
I thought about Scooter all day and into the night and wondered what his fate would be.
The next morning, shortly after arriving at work, in rushed the truck driver, whose face I cannot remember, with a little gray kitten who appeared to be injured. I suddenly was faced with my own “Scooter.” And life would never be the same.
Zoey, about 12 weeks old, scratches on a scratching post. In the laundry basket, her sister Lily plays hide-and-seek.