Karli G.'s Memoir

An Always Adorable Angel

My eyes turned into golf balls. I sank to the floor. I couldn’t believe her! We had a pact to tell each other everything! It seemed like the whole world faded to gray. As if a giant pencil erased all the colors of spring. The smile faded from my lips. Oh no!! I thought to myself as I felt hot tears obscuring my vision. No I will not cry!!! You have to be strong! Calm down!! I couldn’t believe that my best friend in the whole world leaves for North Carolina this week and she never told me about it!
That dreaded Sunday approached and Morgan moved away. Already my parents saw a difference of how I acted. I drooped around and barely talked.
“Karli? “Tested my parents “Since Morgan is gone we wanted to know if you wanted a pet.” By this time my heart reached a boiling point. All my life I wanted a big fluffy dog. To play fetch with and sleep alongside and, well, be my best friend. But my parents claimed it would be too much work. I could already in vision myself throwing a Frisbee to a happy, barking puppy and petting it to its heart’s content.
“Okay!” I agreed. “Let’s get a German Shepherd. Those are so cute! And then we can-“My parents cut me off. “Sweetheart, we are just not ready for that responsibility right now.We know your father and I will be doing all the work. But we are ready for a kitten if you are.”
No dog? Acting sad, spoiled, or stuck up was NOT on my list but I had my heart set on a dog!! I’d even made a bed in my room for it and everything! I almost let tears out- but no. I couldn’t let my parents see me cry. They’ve done too much for me to deserve that.”Oh. A cat? That’s….. uh…. that’s great! Thanks!!” I lied. My vision went fuzzy. I couldn’t see straight.
“Listen, honey we know you wanted a dog.” Replied Dad. “But let’s face it we’ll be the ones taking care of it.” Though my heart broke, the idea of change began to hype me up. I became more and more excited about my kitten. Whatever I talked about, whatever I thought, included her. She has to be white I thought. I want a white cat that is so puffy and fluffy and cuddly that you can’t see her eyes.
One night, my uncle called. He asked me to put my dad on the phone. I stared intently at my dad the whole call watching his facial expressions like I always do. I’m curious can you blame me?
My father hung up the phone. I shot off the couch. “What’d he say?” I questioned. “He said that one of his coworkers has a litter of four kittens. And one includes a pure white cat. He also said he can go to the farm and pick up pictures of the litter for you to choose tonight.”
“Tonight?!” I repeated.
“And he will bring home the cat tomorrow if you like.”
I screamed with glee and ran to my father to give him a hug.
The night arrived in a bitterly cold way for spring and I remember sitting outside the glass door fogging up the glass waiting for my uncle to arrive with the pictures. When he came I sat on the couch and flipped through the pictures until I found the white kitten. “I want-“I stopped. The next picture I didn’t look at yet. It showed a brown, black and white kitten with big green eyes and white paws. Also the smallest one of the litter. I pointed to her and finished my statement. “I want this one.”
The next night slowly approached and at 6:30, my family sat in a circle around my uncle with the cage that contained Angel. He barely lifted the cage door and she bolted out under the bookcase only a flashy stream of black. I remember laying there for hours on my stomach waiting for her to emerge from the bookcase. I tried rolling yarn and colored bells across the floor and placing a bowl of milk outside her new little “safe haven from the strange giants”. Nothing worked.
After failed attempts to coax her out, Angel cautiously emerged walking like each step was thin ice as she scoped out the place that would become her new home and giant scratching pole. Overjoyed, I wrapped her in a blanket like a baby and kissed her furry forehead.
Now, unfortunately, Angel is not so shy. She is the most spoiled cat known to man, and very messy. Her litter box remains right outside my room so of course I smell it. All the time. Then I go clean it when she ‘you-know-what’s’. And I categorize that as ‘not fun’. Once the indoor cat escaped outside and I chased after her for what seemed like endless hours fearing she might be run over. The point is, after all the cleaning, walking, or waking up at 3:00 in the morning, you are always able to manage a smile because you know you are loving, helping, and taking care of a pet that would do the same for you if it could.