So, I have cats.
We were down to one, but Tucker, a two-year-old Tuxedo, was very lonely when our other cat died. He was desperate for anyone to play with him. He would bring bell toys to my husband at oh-dark-thirty. That's when we got the brilliant idea to get him another cat friend.
So, I combed through Facebook and found cat groups to join. They posted pictures of very cute, adoptable kittens. I was on the search for the perfect personality. Tucker is kind of a scaredy cat, so I wanted a friendly, curious cat. Preferably a fluffy one, since Tucker is short-haired. Also, I didn't want an orange cat. The one that died was orange.
I found a cat in foster care and got to chat with the foster mom. We even had a FaceTime with the cat. She played. She was perfect. So pretty. Two-eyes. Loved string and attacking her siblings. Sold!
Then, the foster mom said the cat (her name was Spearmint) just needed to go the vet to be spayed. Oh, and did we have to have a cat with two eyes?
My husband and I just looked at each other. That was unexpected. It turned out, Spearmint had had a bad respiratory infection out in the wild and it affected her eye. If it was too bad, she would have it removed prior to adoption.
Spearmint was so cute. Had the right personality. Did an indoor cat have to have two eyes?
Two weeks later, she went to get spayed and had her eye removed. We had to wait another week or two for her recovery with the foster.
Waiting was hard. Tucker was still waking up my husband to play and he was very insistent that play would be had. I mean, we think that his wet nose kisses are cute, but not when we are sleeping. Tucker also employs "love bites." That is my husband's term. He just plain bites and not gently.
Finally, she was ready. My husband had to go down to the shelter to pick her up. It was about thirty minutes away. They brought out an one-eyed cat. But it was the wrong one. It was a polydactyl. There were three one-eyed cats that day. Finally, they brought out the right cat. She purred all the way home. We changed her name from Spearmint to Una. Why, you ask? Well, we couldn't name her Uno. That wasn't very feminine.
She has such a goofy personality. She loves to jump up high which isn't the best idea with her impaired depth perception and balance, but if she's been there once, she keeps going. It scares me every time she jumps on the banister with a two-floor drop. She hasn't fallen yet, but if you pet her up there, she rolls. I just ignore her and keep walking.
In the picture above, she is rolling on the shelf above the toilet. She was there once when I was sitting. She looked down on me with her front paws outstretched like she wanted to flying tackle me. I left.
We think she might have some Turkish Angora in her because she has many of that breed's traits. She loves to sleep between pillows at night. She loves to jump on shoulders. And she has the softest fur.
If she had two eyes, she'd be devastatingly cute. And she would know it.
She doesn't always play with Tucker, but they tolerate each other.
I have a friend who has two cats. They often will lie next to each other, hugging. Mine don't. But that's okay.
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