Me:Will do. How are the girls doing?
I couldn’t help but ask, even though I was eager to get on the road to the shelter. I turned the car on and waited until its bluetooth engaged with my phone, just in time to receive a reply from Jamison, which I had the car read out to me as I pulled out of my driveway:
Jamison:Omg they’re doing so good. Minnie spent the whole day out in the open without trying to hide from me, and Kellogg let me pet her. They’re both eagerly eating two meals a day now and judging by the litterbox, their digestive systems work just fine.
Something about the robotic phone voice assuring me that Jamison’s cats’ digestive systems were good to go struck my funny bone, and I laughed out loud.
“Would you like to reply to this message?” asked my phone.
“Yes.”
Me:That’s awesome! Any lap time yet?
Jamison:Yes! Kellogg came out from under the bed while I was working today and decided that it was going to be lap time omgrightnow. I had to adjust my desk chair so I didn’t crush her between my legs and the bottom of my desk, and I worked like that for nearly an hour before she went off to do whatever it is she does. The ergonomics were somewhat lacking, but cat! On lap!
I grinned even though he couldn’t see it. I was so happy that Jamison’s new pets were settling in. I’d been worried that they’d adjust slowly and he’d have second thoughts, but going by what he’d told me during our texts over the past few days, after a few days ofwhat the fuck is this shitpanicked bed- and couch-hiding, they’d made peace with Jamison and his apartment and were starting to be brave.
Before I could dictate a reply, another message from Jamison came in.
Jamison:Are you ready for Solo? What time are you picking him up?
Me:I’m on my way to the shelter now. I’m a little nervous. It’s one thing having him meet Curie in theshelter office; it’ll be another on her turf. What if she won’t share? What if they fight?
Jamison:I’m sure there will be some hissing. But remember, Sandra seems confident they’ll be ok, and she knows what the fuck she’s talking about. She does this for a living.
Me:What if he decides he doesn’t like me?
Jamison:Then I will have a talk with him and correct his bad judgment. You’re awesome, and he should understand that.
A little shudder went through me, half-pleasure at Jamison’s compliment and half-nerves of the ‘what if’ variety. It was all well and good that the human thought I was cool, but cats could be much more judgmental.
I was approaching the shelter already, and rather than immediately reply to Jamison, I took a deep, cleansing breath and let it out as I pulled into the parking lot. “You’ve got this,” I told myself. “He’s a cat. He only weighs ten pounds. You’re a human and you’re in charge.”
Yeah, right.
I turned off my car and picked up my phone out of the cup holder, shoving it into my pocket. Time to face the music. Cat. Cat-music. I seized the carrier and got out of the car.
***
Nearly two hours later, I was hanging over the side of the bed in my guest room, trying to coax Solo out from under it. OnSandra’s advice, I was going to be keeping him confined to this room for a few days while he and Curie adjusted. I had kibble in the palm that wasn’t braced against the floor. “Come on, kitty. You’re safe,” I promised the tip of his nose, which was about all I could see in the gloom under the bed.
A paw snaked out and batted at my hand, managing to extract a piece of kibble in an impressive show of dexterity. Kibble and paw both disappeared into the dark, and I heard crunching noises.
At least he was willing to eat? I sighed. He was clearly stressed; I should leave him alone to acclimate. And I should give Curie some attention so she didn’t feel like I had abandoned her in favor of the newcomer. “Ok,” I told Solo, dropping the remaining kibble on the floor at the edge of the bed and bracing my palm to push myself up. “I’ll leave you to yourself. Try to eat the food and drink some water. The litterbox is in the corner.”
No answer from the cat, though quite what answer I’d expected, I didn’t know. I stood up off the bed, pausing to let the head rush from the sudden change in position pass, and left the room, carefully only opening the door as much as I needed to get through it. I didn’t want Solo to dart out or Curie to sneak in. Not that she seemed eager to do so, I realized as I spotted her belly-up on one of her pillows across the room. The princess was exercising the royal prerogative to ignore the interloper. At the sound of my footsteps crossing the room, she rolled onto her belly, arranging her paws delicately under her until she was in the form of a loaf.
“All good out here?” I asked her, squatting down next to her to scratch her chin.
Curie sniffed warily at my hand, obviously picking up the scents of kibble and Solo, then headbutted me. I was going to choose to interpret that asYes, all good here, Dad.
I gave her some more scritches. “You’re a good baby. You and Solo are going to be friends. You just need to get used to each other a little.”
Curie didn’t look convinced, but she wasn’t hissing or trying to bite me, so she couldn’t bethatmad. I gave her one last pat and stood up. “I should -” I started to inform her, only to be interrupted by the sound of a knock on the front door.
People didn’t just show up at my house - who even did that anymore? - so it took me a moment to process what the sound of the knock meant. I had a visitor? Who? Why?
I looked down at my sweatpants and ratty, stained t-shirt and hoped it wasn’t my mom. There would be judgment if it was. Oh well, nothing for it but to bite the bullet. I crossed to the door and pulled it open. “I didn’t -” I started to defend myself, expecting family with crossed arms. Then I stopped short as I registered the face of my visitor. “Jamison?”
