Miss M wrote back a few days ago, saying I could come for a visit on Saturday. Some hours later, she wrote again: something has come up, I’ll contact you later. Then silence.
I was worried. Had something happened to Finn? Was she having second thoughts? Why didn’t she reply? Why did I suddenly feel weird looking at Finn’s picture, as if there was a shadow between us? Last night, I dreamed confusing dreams about cats: I had another cat, not Finn, but I kept thinking of him. This afternoon, she wrote back: Bad news. The previous owner wanted Finn back. He was going to take him away today and see whether he would be happy in his old home, and there was nothing Miss M could do.
I’m unhappy for myself, because I had already fallen in love with him. I’d already lived with him (in my imagination) and now I was ‘losing’ him. But maybe it’s the best for Finn, and then I’m happy for him. Miss M said that she would get back to me if things didn’t work out at his old/new home.
Maybe it wasn’t meant to be. I HAD felt a tiny twinge of doubt or not-complete-harmony or whatever you want to call it, every time I imagined life with Finn. Tiny, but it was there. Maybe it wouldn’t have worked. Who knows. I’m still sad, and wish I could have him.
I was feeling so sad (and having a cold and feeling a little depressed and lonely didn’t make it better) that I immediately started looking for other cats.
I found one, a three-year-old red-and-white male from my city, and made an appointment to meet him tomorrow. But somehow, my heart wasn’t in it. Strangely, I was most touched by an advertisement for a five-year-old black female. An indoor cat, very cuddly, to be sold immediately with all her things because the owner was pregnant. I didn’t want a dark-haired cat (everything is white in my flat), I wanted a male, a younger, outdoor cat. Everything is speaking against that cat, but I felt so drawn to it… I felt so much pity for her, even though there were old, maimed or sick cats who objectively deserve more pity. I can’t explain it. But I didn’t trust my instinct enough yet to contact the owner.
So now, I’m going to meet that red cat tomorrow and see how we like each other. No need to make rash decisions. There is still time until Christmas, after all. I think when I find the right cat, I’ll know.
Here he is. I don’t know his name. He was rescued from Spain two years ago.