When we were living in California, the kids and I adopted a couple of kittens. There were only two in the litter, and I didn't have the heart to separate them. Plus, my cousin who has worked at the SPCA for years told me that it's best to adopt more than one cat at a time since they are social creatures, despite what most people think.
One of my favorite cartoons growing up was Pepe Le Pew - the little lovesick skunk who always pursued the unwilling black cat (Penelope) with the white paint stripe down her back. Since our kitties were a boy and a girl (the girl being a black cat), I decided to name them Pepe Le Pew and Penelope.
Pepe Le Pew took off during one of our moves and never returned, and I decided from then on that Penelope would be strictly an indoor cat.
I always had dogs growing up, but our lifestyle is really not conducive to the needs of a dog. I've never had cats before this, so I think because I treat her like a dog, she acts like one; she comes when we call her, jumps on our laps, gives kisses, loves treats, and comes bounding down the stairs to greet us when we get home.
For as much love as she gets from us, I was getting the feeling that she's been lonely for another little furry companion; especially when the kids and I aren't home. When the kids and I get home from a weekend trip, she comes running to us and meows constantly the rest of the day like she's yelling at us for leaving her and trying to catch us up on all we missed not being here.
When I had broken my wrist in March, I started thinking more and more about getting a kitten. After one of my orthopedic appointments in April, I decided to go to the SPCA since it was near the office and check out the kittens. I met with my cousin Gina and told her what I had in mind. They didn't have any kittens available for adoption on their site, but she told me of a few that were available at their Grand Island location. As I was walking through the offices to leave, one of the ladies peeked out and said, "I hear you're looking for a kitten..."
Well, she had my attention... She told me about a kitten she rescued that was found on someone's front porch with a compound fracture in his back leg that was badly infected. He had to have his leg amputated, and was recovering at her home. She just happened to have him with her that day for a re-check with the vet. She picked him up from under her desk and showed him to me... He was a tiny black kitten with the sweetest eyes and disposition. I put him in my arms and he didn't even resist.
Black cats are notoriously discriminated against because of the superstition that they're bad luck - between that and his missing leg, it was very likely he would be overlooked by people looking to adopt a cat. Since I know what a blessing Penelope has been for us, I know better (she NEVER scratches or bites, and is the most affectionate cat I've ever seen). And his missing leg was of no concern to me - in fact, I couldn't help but think that this three-legged little kitten would be just perfect for our three-legged little family!
The kids and I picked him up from the SPCA right after he was cleared for adoption, and despite a very brief adjustment for Penelope, she has taken on a maternal role with him. They get along better than I could have hoped, and the kids and I are thrilled with our new addition!
We named him Jack - as in "Captain Jack" like a little peg-leg pirate, or Black Jack like the game, or - well, you get the idea. Jack just seemed to fit him perfectly. He doesn't let that missing leg slow him down one bit.