That darned kitten...

I have never understood why I like animals more than people. Note I did not say "love" but I defintely like animals more.

That being said, I am not a cat person. I can pick up a pet rat or iguana without flinching, but cats, well lets just say they have never been my favorite. In fact I can remember saying not too long ago "I don't hate cats, for instance I wouldn't run one over with my car."

I mean lets face it. I have danced with, ridden and kissed dolphins. I got to "speak" to a Manatee years and years ago. I have had a constant dog companion since my first dog Buster (who was around WAY before me). I have had a Parakeet named Tweety that not only sang but also talked. Tweety's favorite line was "Cindy is a bad girl, baaadd girl," shrieked to my poodle Cinderella at the time who would (upon hearing those words) growl snap and try to attack the bird through it's cage.

But, a cat? Those aloof creatures who stare at humans in a way that I stare at 20-year-old drunk girls? Not my thing. I can get guarded disdain from humans, I do not need to take an animal into my life, home and heart and get a purr for a thank you. Once again, not my thing.

That all changed one overcast September day. It was about two months before that my husband and I decided that my dog (trust me she is my dog) Carlie would never learn to love another canine friend. We had tried to introduce her to rescues and walk her through those grand dog supermarkets, but my loving mutt would just snarl and show her teeth. My "baby-fail" body had me distressed and we thought another dog would do the trick. Carlie had grown up with other dogs, but at 11 1/2 she was long passed loving canines. So, my husband and I decided to just be thankful for our little family as frail as it was.

But that day, that damned gray day, a kitten came into my life. We found her outside of work. Shivering and shaking in the rain. She was the size of my hand. I rolled my eyes at the "kitten rescue" but some where inside me I knew to grab our promotional golf towels and that the warmth would stop her from hissing and clawing. That being said. I never meant to bring her home.

But holding her in those first few moments, I knew I was sunk. Her heartbeat calmed in my arms. Her big alien eyes locked onto mine in the way only an animal lover can understand. Eyes that scream "I choose you" without making a sound.

I lied to my husband and said we would only have her until she found a home. But, he knew as I did ~ this alien kitten already had one. At only a few ounces, my favorite pictures of her are in my former football player/ Coastguard husband's arms. By week two we (including the dog) were all in love with her.

So Miss "Daisy; Daisy BeJulJay; Daisy Doodle; Doodle Bug; Crackhead Kitten; Skidabeep; or as we all know her "the Doodles" has adjusted well. She is "fixed" and weighs seven pounds. She has none of the cat diseases I feared. Miss Doodles also follows me from room to room. Meows when she wants my affection and refuses to walk down the steps (why walk when you have a mommy like me who wants to carry you). Oh, and those looks of disdain are saved for strangers, because she never shows them around our little fragile family ~ she fits right in.

As an afterthought, I begged God for a child the night before Daisy came home. Now I do believe God always answers our prayers, just not in the way we expect.

And P.S. I think I think actually love animals more than people :)