Weeks ago, I told A that I wanted a black cat. I know it’s hard to adopt out black cats with the superstition they’re bad luck. I told him I wanted a black cat we could name Lucky so that when everything sucked, I could hold onto some luck because black cats aren’t bad luck, and the cat would be lucky because we would adopt him or her from the animal shelter or a rescue group. A agreed, which shocked the heck out of me because he had been adamant that we did not need another cat.
When A and I got married, we adopted a scrawny little orange tabby kitten from a rescue organization. That scrawny little orange kitten grew up into a huge orange tomcat who never went outside, was spoiled rotten by us, and who tolerated our children. Sonny, as we named him, lived for thirteen years. He passed away about a week after I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Afterwards, A did not want us to get another cat, even though we had another cat, Hot Shot, who we adopted from a rescue organization a year after we adopted Sonny, that did not understand why his comrade-in-chaos was gone. Hot Shot roamed the house, meowing for Sonny, for weeks. We knew he was lonely, but A felt we had enough going on in our lives that we couldn’t handle another cat. And, after awhile, it seemed like Hot Shot had adjusted to being a solo cat.
A few weeks ago when it seemed everything was going wrong and I told A why I wanted a black cat, he said to start looking at rescues and animal shelters for a black cat…preferably young, so Hot Shot didn’t feel his dominance (yeah…right) was threatened. We found one last week rescued from the Dallas Animal Shelter, and A adopted him. He came home, we named him Lucky, and he suffers from the kitten crazies and makes all of us laugh (except Hot Shot, who looks at Lucky with a mix of pity and exasperation).
Hot Shot and Lucky sleep on our bed when A isn’t home and have spent a good part of the last week and half curled up with me. If he isn’t asleep or going crazy, one of my children carries Lucky, cradled like a baby, from room to room. He doesn’t seem to mind, and S and AJ are in love. Sonny and Hot Shot both tolerated S and AJ. Lucky follows them. It’s a good learning experience and responsibility for them, too.
Lucky brings some fun and joy and laughter to our house…some stress relief, which has been much, much needed around these parts.