Our Family of Three Turns One
A house full of hair, a home filled with cuteness.
About a year ago, Ava and Gatita knocked on the door of our family of two. Biko and I had met them over a video call the week before. Both were New Yorkers from Brooklyn. Ava, a kind blond woman in her thirties, was thrilled that Gatita had found a new home. Gatita, a tabby and white one-year-old cat, was not so sure what Ava’s excitement was all about. I understand her hesitation. Who would trade a nice house with a backyard in Brooklyn for a shoe-box apartment in Manhattan?
Ava had rescued Gatita from the Brooklyn streets at the end of March and had taken great care of her for six weeks. Ava and the volunteers at Brooklyn Animal Action took her to the vet, treated her wounds, had her neutered, and made sure she gained the weight she needed to become a healthy cat. They also gave her love and safety, so she was ready to trust humans when we adopted her the first week of May.
It was Sunday morning, ten minutes to ten, and Biko and I had just finished preparing the house. Food tray, water bowl, cat treats, and an improvised litter box. Despite my careful planning, the litter box I had ordered online wouldn’t be delivered on time. We went with an alternative plastic box where I used to keep the blow dryer and hair straightener. Those items would eventually find a new storage place. Gatita had become a priority.
Gatita didn’t seem too stressed from the car ride from Brooklyn to Manhattan when Ava opened the carrier. She was cautious but curious. New place, new smells, new sounds, but most of all new humans. She sniffed our hands, let us pet her, and explored our apartment. Every few minutes she would look at Ava for reassurance, who stayed for about an hour giving her treats and talking to her gently to make her feel safe.
When Ava left, Gatita retreated under the bed. Fair, we thought, she’ll need some time to adjust to this new environment.
I had been reading blogs about adopting cats all week, learning about the dos and don’ts. And I had talked to all my cat-parent friends about their experiences. I knew it could take her weeks to trust us, so I was not worried when she decided to hide. Is there anything we can do to make her feel at home? I wondered.
“Rotisserie chicken,” Ava had replied when I asked her what Gatita’s favorite food was. And off we went to the supermarket to get rotisserie chicken. We wanted her to have her favorite food for her first day at home. A proper welcome dinner.
When we came back, her sense of smell overpowered her sense of caution. She slowly approached the plate. We froze. We didn’t move a muscle until she finished her meal. It worked! It had only been half a day and we could tell she was a smart, kind, and grateful girl. She would make her adoption and transition to a new home very easy.
We spent the afternoon mesmerized at her every move. “Oh, look she’s on the windowsill.” We would whisper to each other. “She’s playing with her new toy. Take a video!” And our phones got filled with Gatita’s photos and videos in just a matter of hours. Now, after a year, you can imagine what our photo gallery looks like.
That night, we went to sleep with a new feeling. We had become Gatita’s mama and baba, and we were thrilled to take on the responsibility.
Since May 7, 2023, Gatita has filled our house with hair and our home with cuteness. Biko has trained her to sit, wait patiently for her food, and do high fives. If we go to the kitchen for any reason during the day, she’ll give it a try and ask for food. But we tell her “not yet,” and she walks back to her spot by the window with disappointment. I watch them with amusement when Biko walks her to the clock on the wall and tries to explain the time to her. “When this hand reaches here, then it’s time for food. Not yet.” He tells her. She looks up at the clock and meows to complain before giving up and going back to play with her stuffed bird.
Biko has not succeeded in turning her into a cuddly cat though, but we don’t lose hope. Maybe she’s not ready for cuddles yet. Maybe she will be soon. Inshallah1, I tell myself in Arabic. Inshallah.
Thank you for reading me!
Until the next story.
Pia
The literal translation of Inshallah in Arabic is ‘God willing’. However, it has multiple, even contradictory meanings that are wonderfully explained in this article. I bet you’ll laugh as much as I did reading it!
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Hahah as cat parent I tried to drew comparison between Gatita and my cats, I came to a conclusion that your cat is more behaved than I personally am 😅