Cross That Bridge...Not Yet

          The day we brought home our kitty, Sushi from the shelter our lives became richer and gentler. Our kids were still young, and they were thrilled to watch a kitten grow up; a new experience for them. 

 

        Initially the plan was to adopt one kitten as sort of a Sweetest Day / Anniversary present to ourselves, and the agreement was to find a Calico. We’d recently lost our first Calico, (HoneyMoon) whom we’d acquired right after we were married. Since her departure we determined that our home was way too quiet. Our sassy, classy black JellyBean was too restless and needed a baby sister to boss around.

 

Off to the shelter we drove that sunny October afternoon.   

 

The shelter lady led us through a series of hallways, past older cats in one area and into another room which was a nursery of sorts. There were the kittens, still with their siblings and mamas, but eligible for adoption regardless. We found our Calico girl whom the shelter had named “Cheetah”. We were not required to keep that name, but we actually liked it, so we were set.  But we didn’t leave so quickly.

 

In another cage across the room sat a lone mother cat, all white like a snowball, except her eyes were green. She seemed bewildered, and I slipped my fingers between the cage bars to give her some form of love. I felt bad for her. My adoptee heart began to bleed for this solitary birth-mother cat. 

 

“Where are her babies?” my older daughter inquired.   

 

“Oh they were all adopted out today before you came,” the shelter worker said. I read the name tag on the cage: Diva. 

 

“She’s a diva alright”, I said. “Look at that sweet face”.

 

The shelter volunteer assured us that Diva was going home with a volunteer tonight so not to worry. This kitty mama would have a great home. I was relieved. Diva stuck her nose to the cage bars and let me stroke her soft forehead.

 

The door to the kitten nursery room swung open suddenly, and in walked another volunteer with a kitten. She placed the kitten in the cage with Diva and quickly latched the door. “He’s back!" the worker announced. Turned out that all but one of Diva’s babies had been adopted. The remaining kitten had been taken to a pet therapy event at a nursing home nearby for the day and had just returned. The little fuzzball missed out on the Sweetest Day adopt-a-thon because he was out doing good for the elderly. The lady informed us that he was a male. My daughters instantly took pity on him.

 

My girls insisted on petting him since, why not? We had one lucky and lovely kitten selected, but we might as well give this cute little white, fuzzy guy some good luck  metta before we headed out. My husband, the girls and I sighed and sat back down on the floor again to play for a few more minutes with the friendly fellow. I was falling in love. As soon as I saw his back end I knew…"Um, this is a female”.

 

The volunteers realized quickly that the other prospective adopters received the male by accident. Someone earlier had mixed up the brother and sister.

 

“It’s another girl daddy! It’s a girl. Can’t we get her too?” Our daughters  were insistent. I was insistent, and in spite of my husband’s better judgement, (and mine too, but I was less hesitant), that afternoon we walked out of the League for Animal Welfare smitten with two kittens: the loving and chill Calico we intended to adopt and the undersized but spirited white ball of squeaks and fluff we never dreamed of but who has shared more affection, cuteness and cuddles than anyone could ask for. We named her Sushi because she looked like a curled up little sushi roll with green eyes and pink foot pads. Some would describe her as so cute it’s disgusting. I just say she’s angelic. 

 

We also joke and say we got SuSHE instead of a SusHE.

 

     Today, Sushi is 18 1/2 years old. She is slowing down but the love has not. Cataracts are clouding her large green eyes, but she can still “read” you and see into your soul. She knows when someone needs company and cuddles. She insists, wobbly legs and all, on climbing on the back of the sofa so she can head butt by my ear or my hand. My Friday night adoption “happy hour” Zoom group has dubbed her the “mascot” since, well, Sushi is an adoptee as well and she has charmed them. Her purr begins with a slow, low rumble and builds to a the sound of a small motor. Sushi has always had a kitten mew instead of a full adult cat meow and she will nestle belly up in your arms like an infant.

 

One day little old, frail but affectionate-to-a-fault Sushi is going to cross that Rainbow Bridge. We will never be ready, and there will never be a another like her. Saying that our hearts will break is an understatement because there will be no words. As I watch her doze  contently and innocently on the sofa this evening I muse: Sweet forever baby girl…You give more than you take…You love without condition…You make people smile…You’re goodness purrrrrsonified…Your time is coming, but for now…We’re not there yet…You’ve had a lucky, loving life, but so have we.