The Kitten Who Walked the Storm

2019 hailed many strange things, being arguably the last normal (or less than outright crazy) year many people have had, but what stood out most to me was the storm that swept the east coast and hit my neck of the woods particularly hard. Heavy winds upended trees, which fell on power lines and killed power throughout the city. Waiting out flash flooding and deafening cracks of thunder that day taught us to truly appreciate the power of nature...and it’s potential for surprises.

Still without lights or television by sundown, we settled on watching the storm with the backyard door creaked open, fascinated by the scene. The wind had calmed down by then, and in the silence between the thunder and soft rain there was one repeating noise that stood out amongst the rest...meowing? Particularly loud meowing, echoing from near the shed. We’d always had a clowder of strays in the neighborhood, but we’d never had any so close to the house. We risked a step outside, and that’s when we found her.

She was no bigger than a person’s hand back then. Soaking wet with brown-grey fur and black stripes, she would’ve blended into the muddy environment near the shed perfectly if not for her bright beige chest and snow white chin. That, and those distinctly widened eyes as she trotted alone through the rain, apparently having thought now was as good a time as any to catch the robin who’d found its way into our shed during the storm.

As anyone whose ever seen a cat knows, you usually can’t get too close to them before they bolt in the other direction as fast as they can, sometimes after leaving you a good scratch to remember them by, but her fish out of water look said it all. She’d gotten more than she bargained for hunting at this inopportune time, and decided she just wasn’t cut out for life as a stray. She readily let us bring her in and got along with our other pets right away. Well, except for the fish. But thankfully she has yet to learn how the physics of solid glass work, so I like to think they help her get good exercise instead. Some cleanups and checkups later, and we named her after the robin she was so fascinated with, a name she’s surprisingly responsive to, though even a bizarre cat like her isn’t above refusing to come when called.

Two years later and the characteristics that led her to us have become even more apparent: her characteristically small size for a cat her age, the not so cat-like sense of stealth and balance, those ever-widened pupils we’ve still rarely ever seen in that thin line cats usually have, and that insanely loud meow that interrupts phone calls and lets the entire house know when she’s ready to be fed. Those things, and the fascination with birds, who she hilariously mimics the chirping of whenever she sees them at the feeder outside the window. We haven’t looked back since, and it seems like the feeling is mutual, since when presented with the opportunity she still refuses to set foot outside. In fact she’s gotten so comfortable around people that she’ll often sleep right beside us on our beds, especially when she senses that someone is sick; an ability I never even knew some cats have until we got her.

I know stray cats get something of a bad rep from a lot of people when it comes to the subject of adoption, being seen as hair-ball hacking nuisances that can’t be tamed. But in the event that you do find a friendly one on the younger side, give it a chance. They bring a whimsical sense of character you just can’t find in anywhere else.