Xena, Warrior Princess

Honeysuckle stared out of her cage at the people milling around the room lined with cages exactly like hers. Her ears flattened. She moved back into the corner of the cage and turned her back when the cage door was opened. This happened daily when her water bowl was refilled and the litter box scooped. She was shocked when hands lifted her and pulled her backwards out of the cage. Her claws extended on all four paws and flailed at the air. She was dropped in another cage. This one was lifted off the floor and carried out of the room. Honeysuckle hunkered down and watched the cage door, ears, whiskers and attention on high alert. She knew from experience that being moved could be a seriously dangerous event.

Meanwhile, in the reception area, I had filled out a feline adoption application accompanied by Christopher, the tall young man I claim as son. The volunteer who had assisted us had read each paper to be sure it was complete. All was fine until a frown had crossed her face. “You are sure that this is what you want--the most obnoxious and cantankerous cat we have?”

“We do,” I had assured her. “ My daughter took her Maine Coon, Max--Catus Maximus, our self-appointed household tyrant--with her when she moved in with her boyfriend.”

“The place just isn’t the same without him.” Christopher said. “No shredded term papers, no fantastic stories to tell between classes to entertain sorority girls, no scratches to play for sympathy...I miss being minion to a cat.” His head shake sent his long red hair across his face

The volunteer had still looked uncertain. “I'll get someone to show you to an interview room. Just a minute. I’ll go see who we can find for you to meet.”

Shortly thereafter, Honeysuckle was looking with suspicion at the open cage door. She approached the opening carefully and poked her nose out to sniff. There were no other animals present. Cautiously she stretched her neck and looked around the empty room. When the door to the room opened, she sat and began to lick her front paw and wash her ear, pretending to ignore the three humans who entered.

“I really hope this works,” the volunteer was saying. “This cat is one of our two longest residents--she has been here almost 4 years and has been returned twice by prospective adopters who could not handle her.”

“Hello, cat.” I said and made coaxing noises as I sat in a chair a couple of feet in front of the cage.

“Her name is Honeysuckle.” the volunteer said.

“Really?” Christopher, looked skeptical. “Honeysuckle?”

Honeysuckle had stepped from the cage and deigned to sniff my fingers and then permit her ears to be scratched. Braver now, she turned her back on the woman and strolled arrogantly over to Christopher She was clearly surprised when he picked her up in hands that completely encompassed her 7 lb self. It was surprisingly comfortable and she relaxed for a moment as he held her against his chest. Then she remembered that being held could be dangerous and she dug her claws into his chest and leapt away. She sat in the middle of the room and smoothed the fur across her shoulder watching to see what the man would do.

He grinned. “She’s perfect.”

“Why was she returned before,” I asked, just as another volunteer came into the room carrying a file.

“Well,” the newcomer said in a brisk voice that had Honeysuckle’s ears flattening again. “It is likely that she was originally a feral, picked up and chipped four years ago this month. She was returned from her first placement--a newly wed young couple with no kids--after they dressed her in a Halloween costume. She shredded the costume and their hands and hid under the bed for 24 hours before they could capture her and bring her back.”

Honeysuckle had gone into a battle crouch, her tail twitching angrily behind her. Her ears flicked in his direction, when she heard the Christopher sniggering, but her eyes remained fixed on the new comer.

“The second time she was placed, it was with a single female who kept her for 6 weeks. Honeysuckle had managed to upset a jar of catnip and scratched her owner when the woman tried to sweep up the catnip from around Honeysuckle who was sitting on it.”

The words meant nothing, but the tone had Honeysuckle producing a noise from her chest much closer to a growl than a purr.

“Are you serious?” Christopher asked.

“Poor Honeysuckle,” I said. “Did some idiot try to take your prize that you had worked so hard for?”

Deciding from the tone that she had an ally, Honeysuckle slid her hindquarters so that they were protected by her new friend--me.

“We’ll take her.”Christopher said, “Right?”

“Of course.” How could I disagree?

“You will? You’re sure?” the woman with the file looked doubtfully at Honeysuckle, who stared back unblinking.

“We will.” the answer was definite. “Can we take her now?”

“I’ll draw up the papers and get her vaccination card and tags.” The woman with the file left and Honeysuckle shot out her leg and nonchalantly began to groom herself.

The other volunteer picked her up and put her back in the cage. Fortunately, the volunteer was wearing gloves. We all headed for reception to complete the process.

In the car, Christopher held Honeysuckle in her carrier and pushed a finger through the bars to scratch her head. She permitted this for a moment, and then began to gnaw in a friendly fashion on his finger, which he withdrew

“I wonder who gave our little warrior the name Honeysuckle?” I shook shook my head.

“Doesn’t exactly fit,” Christopher agreed. “She’s more the warrior princess type, than a sweet little flower. That’s it! That’s her name: Xena, Warrior Princess. You’re Xena, aren't you, little warrior princess?”

Xena sat quietly for a moment with only her nose twitching, considering the aptness of her new name over the one hopefully and naively assigned to her at the shelter and the potential of her situation. The car was warm. The scent of the human female was calm and caring. She would make an adequate servant. The male smelled interesting--young and a bit of wild and he was speaking to her in a very good way . Yes, he would make a fine familiar and minion.

Decision made, Xena poked her paw through the bars of the cage and snagged Christopher’s sleeve with her extended claws, pulling him toward the cage.

“Apparently she is Xena, and she has chosen you for her human.” I noted.

The cage door opened and Xena found herself once more comfortably engulfed in large human hands and settled on a broad human chest.

“Hey, Xena.” Christopher said. She crawled up his chest and fastened her claws in his long red hair. Regally she knighted him by swiping her face and scent glands across his cheeks.

“You have definitely been chosen” I told him

Xena leaned in and in a token of affection and the beginnings of love, she bumped noses with him before curling up in his hands with her tail across her face. She cat napped serenely the rest of the way to her new fiefdom.