by Kenda Robertson

Created on: December 06, 2009

I don't feel like I chose my cat, Kiley, as much as she picked me. It seemed like destiny that our paths crossed, and looking back, I'm sure it was. I'd always loved animals as a child and though my best buddy was my dog, Bandit, there were always a few cats hanging around the farm.

While in college and later as an adult living in the big city I shied away from owning a pet for fear of responsibility. Even though I had some pretty close encounters with strays, I didn't get the pet bug until some years later. While I pondered the idea of pet ownership many times, it was during a sad time in my life that I suddenly got the urge to go forward.

My father had just died, and my relationship with my boyfriend was going nowhere as was my career. I felt I had nothing to lose by getting a pet and maybe I'd find a new friend and finally face my fear of the Big R.

I decided I wanted a cat since they pretty much take care of themselves. In other words, they clean themselves so they don't have to be bathed and they can use a litter box and don't have to be walked. My decision was also based on the fact that I hate to see dogs cooped up in apartments all day, and feel they need a yard and room to run and play. Cats on the other hand take up little space, are amused by lint and sleep a lot.

My first trip to the local animal shelter was only to "see what's available." For some reason, I made up my mind I wanted a solid gray kitten. I still don't know why. But I refused to settle for less. My companion and the shelter attendant lead me to a barrage of kittens in various colors, fur lengths, stages of growth and levels of activity. They were all cute, playful and adorable, but they just weren't gray.

"Here's one," offered my kitty-shopping companion tiring of my indecisiveness. "It's tiger striped," I whined. "I want a solid gray one."
"Well ..." said the shelter attendant hesitantly after I had seen just about every cat in the facility, "... we do have a few others over there." Her sullenness didn't distract me as I hurried to the lone steel cages separated from the others.

When I reached the poor segregated kittens in the cold corner I saw something amazing. A skinny, scrawny and kind of funny looking kitten with a solid gray coat peered at me with deep golden eyes beneath rather large bat-like ears.

"Can I open the cage?" I asked the attendant. She nodded somewhat confused that I'd be interested in this scraggly piece of fur. As I opened the door, the poor little creature immediately

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