We recently adopted a couple of kittens. We are now a three cat family. I always swore I wouldn't be *that* lady. You know, the one with all the cats. The lady some people might call the crazy cat lady. But it happened. And I love it. I couldn't imagine life without these 3 furry loves. And I can't picture Bob without his Marley or Marley without her Bob. And I suspect Mo thinks those pesky kittens are not as bad as she would like me to think she thinks they are.
When we adopted Bob, two weeks after adopting Marley, he was the last of the litter to go. We got to the house and a woman and her daughter were marching out with the last orange tabby cat, all fluffy and cute. We get inside the house and the people mama of the cats hands this white fluff ball to David. He sure was a homely little thing. Cute though. And Dave (who is not a cat person) was in love. The entire time we were there, Bob just sat on Dave's arm at his chest, loving the attention. When most kittens are skittish, this little guy just enjoyed the attention.
As we were putting Bob into the carrier to make our way home, the people mama said, "Oh his tail is bent. It's fine though, he was born that way, but you should know his tail is bent." We said, "Oh, okay" and put our handsome (though homely) newest little guy into the carrier to drive home. It was obvious she had expected us to say no thanks and hand the kitten back to her. Her expression when we casually told her it wasn't a big deal said it all. How could we want the imperfect cat that she didn't want and that none of the other 6 or so people who had come to get kittens would want?
It's easy. We all have bent tails of some kind. We're a bent tail kind of family. We embrace these differences and love not in spite of them but because of them and without letting the difference become the being.
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