Grace #22 Princess the Cat

I am not a cat person. Don't get me wrong, I always liked our cat, but I would not have considered myself a cat person because I'm allergic to cats, I don't like hair on my furniture or clothes, I despise emptying a litter box, and I think cat food stinks. Our cat Princess came to live with us four years ago as a kitten. Steve and our then-6-yr-old-daughter went to a shelter and rescued her. My requirements for the cat were that they pick a litter trained, short haired, female. I didn't have any breed preference. I didn't have any color preference. I didn't even go with them to pick her out. Our daughter instantly fell in love with Princess, even though the cat bites if you try to pet her, runs if you try to hold her, and basically ignores us except when it's feeding time. Did I mention that I'm not a cat person?

Correction: wasn't a cat person.

During the move we had an almost tragedy: Princess went missing! We had put her in a storage room so she wouldn't get scared or run outside while the movers were going in and out of the house. Then we made the poor decision to let the movers put some boxes in the storage room figuring that Princess would hide and they wouldn't even see her. Then the movers left. A few hours passed. Where was Princess? We looked everywhere inside, everywhere outside, called her name, rattled her food dish.

Still no Princess.

A day went by. A day and a half. I'll admit, I lost faith. I thought she was living in the woods behind our house and either having a great time or scared or worse. I found myself incredibly sad at the prospect of not seeing her again. Her presence in my life had quietly become a constant, a feeling of all being right in the world. Somehow, in the past four years I had to come love the cat that I couldn't pet without getting hives. The cat whose litter box I bemoaned emptying each day. The cat whose food smells "icky." The cat whose fate I now worried about, cried about, and for whom I found myself constantly looking all throughout the day. I loved our new house but I couldn't fully enjoy it because it felt like gaining the house had come with a terrible loss. The whole family was in mourning.

Then I heard a faint meow. Steve and I quickly looked all around the backyard. We called. We searched. We rattled the food dish. No Princess. I figured I was now hearing phantom meows because I was missing the cat so much and so feeling more than a little foolish I decided to check the storage room once again.

Out strolled Princess! She had been in the storage room the entire time. She had gone into deep hiding, just as all her little cat instincts had told her to do. She was back! My world was set to rights once more. My family was complete.

Don't ask me how this small bundle of shedding fur who rarely gives me the time of day and makes my eyes water and my skin itch when she does touch me became a source of joy in my life, I just know that she did. Her presence makes me feel happy. Makes our house a home. She is with us where she belongs and I am grateful.