A New Friend

I got a new friend!

I’ve been thinking about getting a new cat for a few weeks. It started when my therapist pointed out that I may be avoiding forming attachments to people in order to protect myself from the pain of losing them. We were talking about Maggie in particular, but it also struck me in how I am still mourning Natasha.

I still have a hard time not dwelling on the moment Nash was put down, but I tried to focus on how it was to have something to come home to, something to take care of. I started browsing shelter websites and asked Rachel and Jack if they would come check a few out with me.

My plan was to windowshop, to just get a feel for cats again, and them to get one (if I did) after I go to Salt Lake over spring break. However, Rachel offered to come check on the new beast, if there was one, since they were coming back from SLC a few days before me.

Huh. Suddenly there was the chance to take a cat home that same day. That I needed to think about.

The first shelter didn’t have any that stood out to me, although they did have a quartet of kittens who chewed on my necklace, thoroughly attacked my shoe, and caused Jack to declare that he was “in heaven!”

At the second shelter, though, we met a floof of a cat named Beyoncé. Unfortunate name aside, she warmed up to me surprisingly quickly and set up camp on my lap, purring happily.

She’s declawed, which I’m sad happened but I acknowledge (guiltily) is a perk. She has Manx syndrome, giving her only a little stub of a tail but no other medical issues. She’s got long, fine hair like Natasha did, but the coloring of a tabby and a calico. She’s lovely.

I wasn’t sure, though. Was she too much like Nash? Did I really want that much fur around again? Could I change my plans and get a cat today instead of in two weeks?

I took Rachel’s advice and put a hold on her. We stopped by one more shelter, which confirmed that I really did like “Beyoncé” the best so far. After some more dithering and deliberating, with Rachel patiently staying neutral, Ben declaring “Get it,” and Jack already suggesting new names (Hair-mione and Bob the Tigress stand out), I made my decision.

Or, rather, Rachel gave me the basic supplies, “just in case,” and I headed homeward/shelterward.

That’s when I decided. I wanted a cat and she’s just about perfect.

I got to the shelter right after they stop doing adoptions, but they happily let me get her still.

She stayed completely silent the whole way home, watching me from the backseat:

When we got home, I put her carrier on the floor, opened the door, and went about dinner. After about 20 minutes, she crept out and disappeared. After another hour, I went searching and found her hiding in the hall closet. With a bit of coaxing she crept out and I took her to the couch for some lap time.

She was a bit unsure about my noisy heating system, but when she tired of my lap she didn’t go far:

I browsed many lists for name ideas since Beyoncé definitely needed to go, and landed on Morrígan. She’s an Irish goddess. Her stories are actually fairly grim, but there is a fun British YA series featuring a girl named Morrigan Crow that Jason recommended to me and that I read while sitting in the rain in a garden in Australia, waiting for the new year.

It’s sticking nicely, and the nicknames come easily, from Morg to Morgana to Miss Morrígan Cat.

And so I have a new friend. Somewhere. I’m not entirely sure where she’s currently hiding, but I’m sure I’ll find her sometime.

We’re buddies.

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