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We stood in a kennel that held maybe 15 separate cages.  There were cats in each of them.  On one end of the room, an orange and white striped kitten shrieked at us without stopping.  Cute, but I wanted an older cat.  That kitten would be gone before we made it to the front door.

I pined away for a young black cat on the other end, Bullwinkle.  But he was only a year old.  I opened the cage and took him out; immediately he hugged me.  Meeyoo! he said, politely.  He hugged me some more.  I put him back.

We wandered around and looked at maybe 50 cats.  I recognized a kitty from the website; 10-year-old Skittles had stood out as a colorful calico against a green background.  Her description said shy, but very sweet.  She was a large girl; the website talked of putting her on a Program.  She was at the front of the cage and looking at me.  I knelt and scritched her a little.  We continued on.

After we’d browsed a bit we asked to see Skittles privately.  We sat on the floor in a room and watched her explore.  She waddled to and fro, twitching her bulky hips and rubbing against various things.  It wasn’t obvious she was interested in us; we admired her for awhile and back she went to her kennel.

I waffled furiously.  We’d be traveling for Christmas in just a couple of weeks; why were we even thinking about a new cat?  We walked out empty-handed.

Visiting these homeless cats made me aware of the void that Maggie left.  Our house wasn’t the same.  We weren’t the same.  We’d be back.

 

 

 

 

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