Heartstrings Tugged

Destiny Fullfilled

Chapter 3

An Unsure Little Girl and Her Uncertain Daddy

After writing about these current events, I decided to do something bold. A decision that would either cement Juno’s place in my life or confirm she was destined to remain an untethered cat.

I am going to bring her inside.

Not just for a quick snuggle or a late-night salmon snack. A real visit, long enough to see how she handled the big leagues of indoor life: litter boxes, couches, and, of course, me.

Honestly, the porch is beginning to get rather crowded. Word must have spread through the feline grapevine that my house was the hottest all-you-can-eat buffet in town. Mama Cat’s three kittens are now over six months old. One has grown to a massive size, another was Mama Cat-sized (which, to be fair, is still tiny), and the third is a little runt of a kitten. The “middle child” looks nearly identical to Juno except in high definition. Its markings are crisp and clear as if enhanced by photo shop, cute enough to turn heads and mean enough to frighten the largest of cats. Add Mama Cat, Juno, and the occasional mystery guest to the mix and we are but one jazz band away from a full-on alley-cat musical.

But here’s the problem: I cannot afford to feed the entire feline stray and freal neighborhood. I also don’t want Juno to get ganged up on by Mama Cat and her teenage thugs. Their rivalry is well established, and I have no interest in refereeing a feline version of West Side Story.

So, I made a decision. I brought Juno, and all the food, inside.

This would be her trial run. If she could handle being an indoor cat, we would see where it led. But there was one non-negotiable condition: the litter box test. If she didn’t use it before bedtime, she’d be back on the porch faster than you can say, “clumping clay.” My house has plenty of nooks and crannies for accidents, and I am not about to spend my night playing “Find That Smell.”

Around 9 p.m., I went into the laundry room, her designated bathroom, and there it was: a wet spot in the corner of the litter box. She hadn’t covered it up, but I didn’t care. My emotions soared. I could’ve thrown a party. Honestly, it’s a little sad that the biggest thrill of my Saturday night is finding cat pee in a litter box, but here we are.

Well, that’s it, no turning back now. She is staying the night.

The entire evening, she has been loving and sharing her heart-warming purrs with me. But the true test is about to happen. Will she allow me to sleep, pace and cry all night, or demand that I let her out?

By 10 p.m., we were both ready to settle down. She’d dozed off on the sofa, but every little noise snapped her awake. She’s used to sleeping with one ear open, her survival instincts honed by years of living on edge. I wondered if she could relax in a quiet, safe house, or if her feral habits would keep her pacing throughout night.

I performed my usual bedtime routine, leaving her downstairs to make her own choices. She looked so peaceful curled up on the couch. Ten minutes after I climbed into bed, I heard a faint “mew.”

I looked down. A striped tail stuck out from under the bed like a gray feather duster.

“What are you doing down there?” I asked softly. She poked her little head out, met my gaze, mewed again, and climbed up into bed like she owned the place.

I petted her gently to calm her nerves, and mine. She kneaded the comforter with her paws, purring as if she were suckling on mother’s milk. That soft rumble hit me right in the chest. She was happy. Safe. Home… at least for now.

But sleep didn’t come easy. Every couple of hours, she disappeared, only to return and announce her presence with another mew. I quickly learned that Juno cannot be picked up and placed anywhere, all decisions are hers and hers alone. So allowed her choose. Each time that soulful meow woke me, she’d eventually climb back into bed, pressing herself against me. Not beside me, but up against me.

Somewhere between those purrs and her warm little body tucked by my side, something shifted.

She had bonded with me.

And I had bonded with her.

A gray tabby.

A female gray tabby.

The exact kind of cat I swore I’d never fall for.

And yet… it’s like we have always been together.

Stay tuned, loyal readers. The adventures of Juno and her uncertain new dad have only just begun.

Same Cat Time. Same Cat Channel.