15 days old - 58 days old. Somethings change, but others stay the same forever.
One bitter February night, my friend and I had unscrupulously decided to sneak out. I had at least been smart, outfitted in a long sleeve shirt, a sweater, a snowboarding jacket, leggings with jeans over top, two pairs of socks, and Uggs. Even so, about five minutes after leaving my house, I had realized how truly bone-chilling this weather was. Our intent was to walk a little more than forty-five minutes to drink at our friends' house. It was below 0° and there was no way for us to modify our clothing decisions without being caught.
Why did we continue to trudge on? I can not come up with any logical explanation, so my answer is simply this: we were fifteen year old girls with complete disregard to the fact it was a school night, both omitting what the repercussions would be if we were to be caught. It was an impulsive decision, but one that I could not be more happy with.
About twenty minutes in to this icy walk I had heard a faint meow. It was strange, for some unknown reason this had sparked quite a reaction in my sub-conscious. It wasn't that it had sounded familiar to me and I couldn't think - I still can't - of any reason why I had responded in such a way. As I looked to my right this white, orange, and black cat had come barreling towards me out of a hedge. My first reaction should have been instantaneously, "Hmm... why are you outside at 2am you adorable little creature? You must be freezing your paws off out here..." but I was too intrigued with her markings.
The impeccably white face, the only markings around her ears, shaping her head, and dancing on her nose and decorating either side of her mouth... the flaming orange mixed with the black, bringing out the child in me, reminding me of a fire Pokemon such as Growlithe or Arcanine even though they are canines and she unmistakably feline. She was gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. I sat there, enticed with her beauty. I reached out to pet her and she immediately responded by rubbing her face against my hand. http://hunting-monsters.tumblr.com/post/26875472215
She meowed happily, purred lovingly, and it was then that it finally hit me. Why was such a beautiful, friendly animal outside in freezing weather? The rain from earlier that evening had crystallized on the blades of grass, the soil below hard as rock - how cold must she be? How long has she been left to deal with this? I made remarks, some inappropriate, about what kind of people her owners must be, when my friend and I received a phone call.
It was then that I was reminded of where we were going, and even better, that we were late in getting there. I had been petting this cat for a good fifteen minutes. I scratched under her chin and stroked her one last time as I said my goodbyes before we continued on our way. We were crossing a side street when I heard a little mew from behind us. I looked back over my shoulder and there she was, trotting to catch up. I picked her up to bring her back across the street, to where she belonged. I remarked how her colouring reminded me Halloween and for some reason, a pumpkin.
We started walking once again, we didn't even get a couple feet away before I heard the same sound coming from behind me. Sure enough, there she was, running after us. I picked her up again, feeling the ribcage easily this second time. No cat should be that skinny - it was then that I was convinced she was a stray.
After little deliberation my friend had taken off one of her jackets for me to enshroud her in. I huddled her, trying to keep her warm, her making an effort to get out of my arms every time a car whipped past blowing almost arctic wind into her face. We took many breaks on this normally twenty minute walk, so many that it was closer to forty by the time we finally made it.
I brought her inside, directly to my room. The instant I laid the food down, she ate and ate and ate, to the point it looked like there was no end. Then, my other cats noticed there was an 'intruder'. There was constant growling from my female cat Maika, the male, Kesler, became silent and skittish. Even so, Maika was making too much noise, if I left the new cat in my room my parents were sure to wake up. http://hunting-monsters.tumblr.com/post/29133577350/black-maika-tabby-kesler
I moved the food and water bowl in the RV I have sitting in my driveway, making a second trip for this cat. After making a few minor adjustments to what we were wearing, we left again. It being almost three-thirty in the morning, we ran as fast as we could for as long as we could. Surprisingly, we made it there by three-forty-five.
That morning, I let her out of the RV. I left food and water on the deck for her every day, spent at least fifteen minutes on the porch bench with her, and loved her. Something I was sure she was deprived of for a long time. My dad told me to make "found" signs, I never did. He told me to find someone who would make a good home for her, I tried for a while, with many offers, but I couldn't let her go. She didn't treat anyone the way she treated me. I was hers, she had already decided that.
My parents were cracking to allow me to keep her, my mom was leaving food for her, and both my mom and my dad had succumbed to calling her by her nickname: Pumpkin. She wasn't like any cat I had ever owned. She would walk with me when I walked to our neighbourhood corner store, wait for me, and walk back. There was one particular day in April where, two blocks over, a man and his wife were outside of their house. They saw Pumpkin walk with my friends and I when we were on the other side of the road - they were outside for our return as well. They had asked me if she was my cat, when I happily responded with, "Yes, she was a stray I had taken in", their faces beamed with joy.
At that moment, my heart both dropped and fluttered for a moment: Was she their long-last cat? I didn't want to give her up, but to return her to her owners... that would have been amazing. What they did have to tell me, though, it couldn't have been any better.
"Pumpkin" had belonged to this couple's tenants. When they had moved out about a year before, she was no where to be found. They didn't bother looking for her what-so-ever. That came as no surprise to this man and wife as the original owners had frequently left her outside throughout the night, no matter how horrendous the conditions were. Better yet, her real name was "Turdball". There was no way I was going back to calling her that name, but it was at that moment that I knew I had done something right.
Another month went by, it was May now, flowers were blooming, new life was everywhere. Pumpkin had never been happier, even though she only resided on my porch, not yet in my house. I was still in the process of begging my parents. Pumpkin was getting chubby, which was normal, she had not been eating properly before I had taken her in.
It was the last couple days of May that I was finally certain, Pumpkin was pregnant! There had been a male cat around that we had been feeding as well who, surprise, surprise, wasn't neutered. This was all that it took to convince my parents to allow her into the house. She was finally MY cat. http://hunting-monsters.tumblr.com/post/29136232081
June 12th was the day they were born. Four little precious kittens. http://hunting-monsters.tumblr.com/post/29136398118/two-days-old. http://hunting-monsters.tumblr.com/post/27441498454
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