New Cat only arrived on our doorstep a couple of weeks ago now, but as she sleeps snuggled in next to my oldest daughter, I’m thinking she’s already settled into our family.
It was a pretty cold night. The thermometer read 0, and the wind was whipping, causing our motion-sensor-light on the garage to keep turning on. I thought I heard meowing while I was working earlier in the evening, but I couldn’t find the source. Later on that night, while my wife and I were reading, I heard it again, and this time I was able to trace it to our front porch. And there she was, all curled up, squinting against the wind and drifting snow.
At this point, it’s only fair to admit I’m a softy, especially for animals — people not so much. So, when I looked out and saw this cute, cold, skinny cat on the porch my brain went “Awwww.” I grabbed a can of cat food and went out on the front porch. She skipped down into my dooryard, but quickly turned around to keep an eye on me. I popped the can and sat it at the top of the stairs, and before I could scoot back to the door, she was already up the stairs. She sniffed the food and then padded over to me to say hello. I could immediately hear her purring over the wind. After a bit of marking my fist with her chin she turned back and started in on the food. I went back in and left her to her dinner.
I kept checking on her, though. She was a sweet cat, and skinny too. I just didn’t want her wandering off into the woods and becoming coyote bait. When she was done eating she curled up by our door again. This time when I went out she didn’t scurry away, but laced herself between my legs and when I held the door open for her, she sauntered right in. I had already moved Timber, my Alaskan malamute, into the interior of the house, so she could have free reign of the mud room and basement for the night.
And to be fair, that’s all my wife and I were planning on. She is a beautiful and friendly cat. Skinny, but clean and healthy. Young too, judging by her teeth and affect. She’s already thrown at least one litter, from what I can tell, though. But, we thought for sure someone would come looking for her; post signs and posters for a missing cat. And so, when the girls woke up the next morning and found a new cat among us, it was my oldest daughter who immediately said she must belong to someone, and my youngest who said she wanted to keep her. I agreed with my oldest and we left a description of her with the local vet and began checking anywhere people often post missing pet signs.
Happily to my youngest daughter’s content, and admittedly the rest of us, no one’s come looking for her yet. And, I’m glad. She’s a sweet cat. We held off on naming her; didn’t want to name her only to find her owners after becoming attached, but we finally gave in. We had to, it was becoming too easy to call her “New Cat” and that isn’t a very nice name.
We had a few suggestions. Barrett, my oldest, wanted to call her “Pretty Rose”. Logan, my youngest, wanted “Horse Rider”. We settled on Beckett instead, but the girls call her by her full name: Beckett Pretty Rose Horse Rider Freeman. It suits her.
Anyway, she’s one of us now, and that suits me just fine.