This is a re-post, in memory of Wendy the Superpcat, coolest, loving-est cat I’ve ever had, and a great teacher, too. She was with us last Christmas.
Resolution for 2012: write more Café Moi posts. Having said that . . . this one is inspired by and dedicated to my cat Wendy. She’s one of four we have, all adult females, even though one is named William. We’re a gender non-conforming household.
I adopted Wendy, now approximately age ten, at a pet store on 49th Street. They have an adoption service in the back of the store, and one chilly winter evening I was there to look at cats. I’d been single a long time and had started to think I’d be staying that way, possibly for the rest of my life, and maybe it was time for some feline companionship. I walked into the store and there was this spunky white cat with gray patches walking around the front room. Not in a cage, not confined in the back, just walking around taking the measure of everyone and everything in the place. I knelt down and she walked up to me, clearly thinking I was there to rescue her from the boredom of life in a pet store. A week later she was living in my one-bedroom apartment in Astoria, Queens.