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juushikaI'm going today to look at a cat. She's just a cat, she may not be the cat, but she was the first to catch my eye and so she seems like a good starting place—I'll go meet this cat, see if she is the cat after all; if she's not, then I can start a broader search of humane societies in Corvallis and the Portland area until another potential jumps out at me. (I'll probably do the same at this adoption agency, if she turns out not to be the cat—it's in a Portland suburb, so there's no reason to waste the drive.)
But this cat, when I first saw her, made me break out in tears. To be fair, the cat search has been emotionally intense and tears have never been far out of the picture. (Because, goodness knows, now that the previous emotional roller coaster has slowed down, I'd best find another ride at the fair.) I compare a cat of my own to having a child, without exaggeration, for obvious reasons: cats are my people. That isn't a connection I expect the cat to make—I'm not looking for miracles, a familiar, a once-in-a-lifetime relationship. I'd be happy to find it, but to expect it isn't fair on the cat. But she will still be special to me, because she's my first ever own cat and also because having a cat of my own, being with a cat of my own, is so important than even I can't quite find words for it. It's a want that makes me ache inside, the way I miss tail and ears like there's something in me and of me that begs to be solid and is a void, instead.
I'm trying to not get too invested in this cat—because right now she's just a cat, and I refuse to let every single step and stumble on this journey make for an emotional landslide. I don't have the resources for that. Luckily I'm too much in shock to really believe that this is going on. This is something I've wanted for so long that it doesn't seem possible that it's finally leaving the realm of dreams. If this is the cat—and I'm not saying she is—then I may have a cat in a day or three. That just doesn't make sense.
So if you need me I'll be over here in my corner, quietly freaking the fuck out.
I almost don't want to share anything about her, because that signifies investment and because it'll just be silly and embarrassing to broadcast every cat in what could be a search through many. But at the risk of future disappointment, because you should see her eyes to see what it was that caught me and made me cry:
![](https://i.imgur.com/UoX1P.jpg")
Her name is August.
And she may not be my cat. But I want to meet her.
But this cat, when I first saw her, made me break out in tears. To be fair, the cat search has been emotionally intense and tears have never been far out of the picture. (Because, goodness knows, now that the previous emotional roller coaster has slowed down, I'd best find another ride at the fair.) I compare a cat of my own to having a child, without exaggeration, for obvious reasons: cats are my people. That isn't a connection I expect the cat to make—I'm not looking for miracles, a familiar, a once-in-a-lifetime relationship. I'd be happy to find it, but to expect it isn't fair on the cat. But she will still be special to me, because she's my first ever own cat and also because having a cat of my own, being with a cat of my own, is so important than even I can't quite find words for it. It's a want that makes me ache inside, the way I miss tail and ears like there's something in me and of me that begs to be solid and is a void, instead.
I'm trying to not get too invested in this cat—because right now she's just a cat, and I refuse to let every single step and stumble on this journey make for an emotional landslide. I don't have the resources for that. Luckily I'm too much in shock to really believe that this is going on. This is something I've wanted for so long that it doesn't seem possible that it's finally leaving the realm of dreams. If this is the cat—and I'm not saying she is—then I may have a cat in a day or three. That just doesn't make sense.
So if you need me I'll be over here in my corner, quietly freaking the fuck out.
I almost don't want to share anything about her, because that signifies investment and because it'll just be silly and embarrassing to broadcast every cat in what could be a search through many. But at the risk of future disappointment, because you should see her eyes to see what it was that caught me and made me cry:
Her name is August.
And she may not be my cat. But I want to meet her.
