Pincho was never supposed to be a part of our lives. As we returned home from our extended “Tour de Thanksgiving,” our house was dark and devoid of life. The dogs were at the sitter’s and a steady chorus of rain sang out across the gutters forming rivers to the storm drains down the street. As my wife and I hurried to convey our luggage to the safety of the indoors, a new voice appeared on the stoop. Grey and white with the right amount of earnestness and desperation, a small kitten cast its lot our way looking for shelter.
Had it been any other time, there would have been a cacophony of excited canines protective of their abode. Instead, there was solely my wife, always ready to offer a roof and food to any of God’s creatures, large or small (and at any price tag, much to my chagrin).
He made himself at home rather quickly. The skittish nature we associate with most felines seemed to escape him completely, and I was hurriedly dispatched to the store for food and litter. No matter his ultimate fate, I was informed by my wife that he would be our guest for the evening. With a familiarity that many cats never seem to develop, Pincho decided that our digs would accommodate his needs quite nicely. Whether the inclement weather informed this decision in any way, I can only speculate. After satiating his appetite with the finest kibble that Kroger could offer (my executive decision), he planted himself decisively in the crook of my knee on the couch and proceeded to purr like a finely tuned Harley before finally drifting off to slumber, comfortable that his display had pulled all of the necessary heartstrings to earn a permanent spot on our roster.
The dogs have not quite warmed up to Pincho just yet. For now, he lives in my home office, content to lie beside me as I type. I’m sure that he will eventually be accepted into the fold, and he seems to have the patience to wait. As for me, I accept Pincho as a happy surprise. My first cat in a decade, I think he will be a welcome counterbalance to the boisterous dog energy that’s kept this house on its heels thus far. He at least seems to be content to let me write. Perhaps he doesn’t want to wear out his welcome…at least not just yet.
As you read this issue’s article about the Young-Williams Animal Center, consider whether there is room in your life for an animal who needs a second chance. Don’t wait for opportunity to show up at your front door. We just got lucky.