The Tragic Death It Could Have Been If We Never Met And How This Little Guy Picked Me

I have nothing against dogs, or any other pet, so don't judge by the fact that I prefer cats. They're a more independent type of pet, usually, that is, and often times are just as entertaining as any other creature we adopt for our homes. Not to mention the fact that the little things don't require fenced-in yards to run if you're too busy to always be there for a dog. That said, if people have dogs, I do realize how much fun they are but the animal has to fit the owner as much as the owner has to fit the animal.

In the case of black cats, they aren't very popular. People believe they have a hard time relating to black cats and that they can't read their emotions. It has been studied and on average black cats spend five days longer in shelters than other cats. That five days, unfortunately, can mean the difference between healthy lives and catching an unfortunate infection or ailment. In some states and shelters, it also means that the black cats, no matter how cute, affectionate, and playful they may be, are more likely to be put to sleep due to overcrowding. In this case, that would have been an absolute tragedy because I'd have truly missed out on a wonderful pet and some much-needed life in my home.

It was December and it had been almost a full year since my last one passed away. At 48 years old my son moved out on his own and the day he left the family pet we had with us for over twenty years passed away the same day. It was like the little guy held on just until his buddy was gone. For some time I thought about getting another one but could never pull the trigger. Then, one day, I had some free time and went to the local shelter to look around. I figured what could it hurt, right?

Until this one, I had never adopted one from the shelter. The one I had most of my adult life was actually given to me by someone who had a litter. Which, is just as good as anything if you're adopting. So there I am, at the shelter, not really knowing all the particulars of adopting from a shelter. I stopped at the desk and asked the two ladies working, what was the process for adoption. After hearing their explanation it all seemed pretty straight forward so I ventured into the large kennel where the cats were kept. Our local shelter does a nice job of trying to make it all friendly and provide a good atmosphere for those poor felines that were trapped there. Some of them had been there for quite a while, I realized as I read the slips on the side of the cage. That was when I learned that someone was as interested in me as I would be him.

On the side of my calf, I felt the claws as the cutest little kitten was trying to get my attention. Looking down, he had the shiniest coat of pure black fur and the most yellow gold color cat eyes I have ever seen. They stuck out like the eyes of a bird they were so brilliantly colored. I heard the faintest little "meow" as I just looked at him. Why I don't know, but I asked the little fella if he wanted me to hold him. So I picked up this little kitten that I guessed was about five months or so old. He looked healthy and immediately began to purr. As I held the little guy in my arm I looked at his collar, finding the number of the tag assigned him by the shelter. 6241, it read. I went to put the little guy down to read the information they had on him and he started to meow, almost immediately putting his paws back on my leg, as I read all about him. He was a six-month-old stray that was in good health and recently had been given his shots and neutered.

"Better you than me," I said to the little fella. He was still circling my legs as I stood there so I picked him up again. The little guy had one white whisker, I noticed. It made him stick out a little more than a black cat normally does and for those that don't like black cats, they are all unique despite the color of their fur. This little guy had such a personality. How could anyone have left him here, I wondered.

As I played with the little guy, thinking about going ahead and pulling the trigger, I found another oddity about him. His grip was incredible for a cat. feeling around his little paws, not looking for anything in particular, I realized he was gifted with an extra paw on each foot. The term for it is polydactyl. Since that day, and if you didn't already know, I couldn't leave him there, I've seen this little fella do some amazing things for a cat, which I attribute to the extra paw.

So, as much as I didn't know for sure when I went into the shelter, I'd been picked as much as I would have picked any one of them. A twenty-five-dollar donation and a trip across town to get a carrier are all it took. By five o'clock that night we were home and Hawkeye was quickly acclimating himself to his new life with me and mine. Everybody loves the little guy. My son and his live-in come to visit with her little boy quite often. My little guy and theirs are a riot to watch. Hawkeye loves to get high up and look down on the world. With his almost gold-colored eyes and his affinity to jump and climb to the highest places in my house, it was the obvious name to go with.

Shelters are often overrun with pets that need good homes. If you're thinking of getting one, I highly recommend taking the time to go to your local shelter and check out what they have to offer. My little guy is the most personable cat I have ever been around. He is an absolute joy to have and watch play. Even though I wasn't certain I was ready, I'm really glad he picked me.