on the purest joy i've ever known -- WARNING: MUCH CAT-RELATED GUSHING
Ugh, it is too early for a Friday morning - especially with the week I've had. I swear, the GRE had better be worth all this frustration and panic. Also, the barista gave me the wrong coffee this morning; there is absolutely NO sweetener of any sort in this baby. I kind of want to scrub my tongue, but I'm forcing myself to drink it because it is, in fact, waking me up. My brain is usually like muuuuuhhhhh,,,,,, until about 10:30ish. TODAY I WILL BE BRIGHT AND CHIPPER ALL MORNING.
Speaking of bright and chipper, jeez. This cat. The one I got Wednesday? Oh God, she might just kill me with the cute. When she mews (not meows because she has not quite gotten the hang of making that sound yet), she sounds either mortally offended or pitifully helpless. Sometimes both at once. I named her Tempest because her coloring is like storm clouds: dark gray with lighter gray markings - not stripes, but swirls, actually, it's rather neat. Also I like The Tempest. I've actually started to think of her in terms of Christopher Eccleston's Ninth Doctor: "You know what they call me in the ancient legends of the Dalek homeworld? The Oncoming Storm." It's a perfectly apt moniker; she runs me ragged trying to keep up with her. She's so frigging small and has so much energy (and very little common sense as yet; that's a work in progress) that I'm constantly looking around to make sure she hasn't fallen down an air vent (which happened to her at her previous owner's house) or gotten stuck between a dresser and the wall (which happened to her at my apartment). It's exhausting trying to be so vigilant.
BUT OMG, THE CUTE, like I said. Yesterday I came home from school and let her out of my room. Immediately she figure-eighted my legs about a hundred times, looking up at me like OMG YOU LEFT MEEEE WHY DID YOU DO THIS TERRIBLE TERRIBLE THING. Needless to say, I felt like a jerk. When I was refilling her food bowl, she beelined for it and started scarfing it down. I was having a perfectly pleasant conversation with my roommates (M and L) about our respective days, when we heard an odd noise coming from the kitchen.
Odd Noise: NYANGH NYANGH NYANGH NYANGH
Me, L, & M: ...
We crept to the kitchen, and lo! There was my Oncoming Storm, murmuring to herself in the midst of stuffing her tiny face. She would take a mouthful of kitty kibble and start chewing it while making some weird purr-yowl noise.
T: NYANGH NYANGH NYANGH
Me: O_o
L: Is she...nom-ing?
Me: I...I think so.
It was a surprising revelation for us all. M's demon cat Jasper looked especially nonplussed. But then, he's been that way since I brought Tempest home. I was rather impressed that he didn't reject her presence right away (or at all). Mostly he just watches her do her silly kitten-things, wide-eyed and tail a-twitching. I think it must be cat sign language for "What the fuck is it? Do I eat it? Do I play with it? OH GOD IT'S COMING CLOSER AAAAUUUGH." Seriously. He bolts whenever Tempest, impetuous and fearless creature that she is, pounces on him, bats at him, follows him around, looks at him. Roommate L thinks he's afraid of her. I'm just glad it isn't the other way around (although Roommate M is kind of ashamed that her cat, who is normally Evil Incarnate, is being such a weenie).
I have to say that having Tempest is - pardon the extremely overused cliche - a balm to my soul. This year is proving to be one of the most stressful for me; it's my senior year of my undergraduate degree, which means grad school apps, the GRE, working, being the president of a school organization, and managing my personal life. Altogether not a pretty sight, believe you me. Some days I feel like a ball of tension just waiting to explode, and I want to quit everything besides eating and sleeping. With this set of circumstances, it might not have made logical sense to add another responsibility to the list. Truth is, I don't know why I decided to get a cat. It was an impulse - a whim, a caprice. As it turns out, it may be my saving grace.
Tempest loves me. It's so simple and so profound a thing. I can't explain it because I can't understand it. There's probably something scientific about kittens recognizing a protector or a provider of food and shelter, but that doesn't interest me in the slightest. What I know is that Tempest chose me exactly the same way I chose her. It's been two days - less than, even - and I think if I had to give her up, my heart would just break.
Roommate M commented yesterday on how happy Tempest was when I got home from school. She said it when Tempest was doing her damndest to trip me while I was feeding her; and I will admit, I was pleased that she seemed so glad to see me. Later last night, I left the apartment to go get allergy medication (surprise, surprise, I'm allergic to my new cat. *sigh*) and dinner. When I came back half an hour later, L and M eyed me in a very strange way.
L: So...you now have the most co-dependent cat in the world.
Me (with T madly clawing up my thigh): What, are you serious? Did she freak out when I left?
M: Yeah. I was trying to take a nap, but she was meowing and stuff after you left, so I brought her into my room, but then I couldn't sleep because I was worried Jasper might eat her or something, so I put her back out.
L: And I was taking a shower, but then I heard her yowling outside the door, so I was like, "Oh, maybe she needs to use the litterbox," so I let her in. (*Note: T's litterbox is in the bathroom L and I share*) And then she sat outside the shower curtain the whole time I was in the shower, just crying and crying.
Now, I apologized to them for the fact that my cat annoyed them the whole time I was gone. But damn it, I couldn't be that mad about it. I mean, she missed me. That is some heartwarming news right there. This cat, whom I'd only known for about twenty-four hours, missed me enough to have a meltdown when I left her with my roommates for thirty minutes - roommates who, might I add, have spent just as much time with her as I have, minus sleeping time, because all three of us have about the same schedule. It's gratifying to know she's already that attached to me. Of course, I now have to worry about her having total withdrawal symptoms while I'm at school during the day, but she'll have to learn sooner than later that I can't be with her every single second. She already expects me to carry her around the apartment (which, granted, is mostly my fault, since I do). Like I said, the science of it is probably that I give her food, so she likes me best - but I prefer to think we've just got something special between us.
Having a cat (the first pet I've had since I got my apartment) is such an adventure. Tempest is truly a big cat in a tiny package. I swear she thinks she's ten feet tall. One of her favorite things to do is tear-ass around the room looking for Jasper (who, like a weenie, is hiding from her), only to distract herself with something shiny or stringy or oddly-shaped. She has also developed the habit of climbing up to my shoulders and walking back and forth behind my head. It's a neat trick, but it means lots of kitty claws in neck-flesh. D:
She also exhibits absolutely no qualms about eating every single tidbit of her kibble. I watched her eating breakfast this morning; she dropped a kibble to the floor and immediately slapped a paw over it like it was trying to run away. Then she somehow flipped one into her water bowl - oh, now that was hilarious. She stared down into the water for a minute, then dipped her face into it to retrieve the kibble. Apparently she did it wrong, because she scooted back, sneezing and shaking her head. She tried it again with the same result. Laughing, I bent down to nudge the kibble out of the water with a finger. When she saw what I was doing, she began to purr like a Harley Davidson. Then she sniffed the soggy kibble, tilted her head to one side, then apparently decided, "Meh, still good," and ate it. I was so enchanted that I ran my hand from her neck to her tailtip. She started to purr again while chewing her food, which made her sound like a broken radiator.
As funny as she is, as sweet and crazy and adorable as she is, I think my favorite part of having Tempest around is waking up in the morning with her curled up on some part of me, warm and soft and just there. It puts me in the best of moods, and is probably the greatest gift she can give me. I realize I sound like every other cat-lover who thinks her cat is the most awesome cat in all the Cat Kingdom. The difference is, I'm right.