Augustus.

When Jason and I decided to move here, we brought up the idea of getting a pet and then, overwhelmed by so much as it was, quickly dismissed this idea. We decided then and there that it was not going to happen. Too much expense, too much work, blah, blah, etc. "We're going to get in and get out," he told me, as if we were going off to war or planning a one night stand. No attachments.

Well... about five and a half months later, we now have an Augustus. A half pound, striped, grey ball of love. I've never been a cat person; I've always had dogs so I've always considered myself a dog person. (Augustus is staring at me now as if he knows what I'm typing and is quite offended by it.) But, I can safely say that I am now, also, a cat person because I have fallen head over heels in love with this cat.

Talk of changing our mind about the "in and out with no attachments" plan began around the time when Jason came home every night to a fiancé who had spent most of her day balled up on the couch in tears with a case of the most pathetic and lonely homesickness you've ever seen in your life. "I need a dog," I told him, eyes swollen, as if I was pleading for my life. "I can't do this anymore without a dog."

To me, having a dog would not only give me work to distract me from how much I miss home, but it would dull the ache of how much I'm alone here. I would have a companion. Someone I could talk to, allowing me to feel slightly less insane than when I talk to myself. It was like a beam of light at the end of the tunnel, a beacon of hope, if you will.

Jason immediately understood, however, (being a cat person), also immediately began trying to convince me to get a cat instead. Telling me that they are less work, less expensive, and just as awesome. I was skeptical, but decided to let the fates decide. (i.e.: our landlord.) Our lease was unclear on our even being able to get an animal, so we e-mailed her to ask about it. After saying she needed a week to think it over, she responded by saying she would be okay with us getting a cat. Jason showed me her email, smug and triumphant. It was settled. No puppy for me.

In the couple of weeks to follow, I found myself looking at pictures of kittens and trying to get myself excited. I just hadn't had much experience with cats and the ones that I'd met over my years always seemed so indifferent about, well, just about everything. 

I was also incredibly nervous on the way to the animal shelter. I felt almost as if I was on my way to a first date, or something. 

When we entered the room labeled "Kittens", I had no idea how in the hell we were supposed to pick one. You know that old saying, "When you know, you know." I looked at the black and whites, the orange tabbies, and even the gorgeous all white ones... but then I saw Augustus. His big, green eyes staring right at me from the front of his cage. Without anyone even saying a word, the lady opened the cage and handed him to me. And I knew.

There was about an hour's worth of paperwork and adoption applications to go through, during which time I spent panicking that something might go wrong and I would have to leave without this 9 week old kitten melting into my chest and falling asleep there. I was literally sweating.

When everything was finalized and they said they would get us a carrier to bring him home in, relief and joy flooded my being. I finally had a little buddy of my own. Even when he gets kitty litter all over the bathroom floor or whines at me, meowing/yelling, until I pick him up and give him a snuggle; I'm still grateful. Even as I've been trying to writing this, he has bit the shit out of my hand for using it to type instead of pet him; I'm still grateful. Because I can tell that he already loves me just as much as I love him and I didn't even know how much I needed that.