Welcome Home, Roxie

Her last name's not "Carmichael." She's far too young to be famous. And we chose to spell her name with an "ie" rather than a "y," simply because we thought it was cuter. Still, Roxie, the newest resident of The Hamilton Zone—all one and a half pounds of her—received one heck of welcome when she came home with us from the local animal shelter on Friday.

After losing our sixteen-year-old Himalayan, Belly, last Monday, I assumed we'd hold off a bit before welcoming another cat into our lives. The pain of her passing was still fresh in our hearts and minds, and to be honest, the challenges with which Belly had presented us in her final couple of years were things I wasn't exactly anxious to handle again: pooping and peeing all over the house, repeated and expensive vet visits and medications, emotional detachment one day and neediness the next. Yes, we were willing to accept those things in exchange for the positive aspects of pet ownership. But they'd been a lot to handle—as had her death. So while Kelly and I didn't specifically discuss how long we'd wait before taking on another animal companion, the tone of our conversations suggested that it wouldn't be right away.

But then, completely by coincidence, I read on Wednesday a tragic story in our local paper about a teen-aged girl who'd observed a kitten being thrown out the window of a moving vehicle, then nearly run over intentionally by the person who was driving it. Sadly, once she'd rescued the kitten, she couldn't find a shelter nearby that would take it because all of them were full to capacity. Worse, it came to light that because of the overcrowding, unwanted pets were being euthanized in as little as two to three weeks. Hearing that just days after having to consciously make that decision for Belly was a bit much to handle. We couldn't save them all of the animals, but we could certainly save one.

And, though they'd handled the news about Belly fairly well, the kids were in very short order asking about a new pet. Given that Belly had never been what you'd call sociable—and not at all with the kids—it was hard to fault them for seeing an opportunity to acquire something more kid-friendly with Belly gone and a "space" appearing to be open. And their pleas fell on sympathetic ears, as I was hurting more than I expected to be last week, feeling like there was a big, empty space in my heart—something I was reminded of every time I walked into our bathroom, where Belly had spent nearly all of her time.

By Thursday, I was perusing the shelter ads online and discussing the topic with Kelly. She seemed surprised at first, but she offered no resistance. She even started sending me ads for kittens she though showed particular promise. So by Friday, with Zoë out of school for the summer and me completely charged to put behind the sadness and start over again with a new ball of fur, we headed to the humane society where we'd adopted Zane.

It didn't take us long to find Roxie. In a room full of cats and kittens, all of them adorable, she just seemed to stand out. And she was the one who stole our hearts—all of them. Aside from being adorable, she immediately came to the front of her cage and begged us to pet her. Though we would have been happy with several other kittens with whom we interacted, once we'd held Roxie, heard her instantly—and loudly—purring, and felt her nestle without hesitation against our chests, it was a done deal. We took a poll, and although Zienna wanted to take "all the kitties" (And who didn't?), it was unanimous. Roxie was the one.

Arriving back home with Roxie in tow, I began to feel a bit guilty about adopting another cat so quickly, wondering if it was disrespectful to Belly to have done so. But thinking about the sadness we'd felt all week, it was obvious Roxie was offering some much-needed joy, as the kids argued about who would hold her next and for how long. Plus, while we'd purposely avoided any kitten that resembled Belly too closely—even though Kelly, Zoë, and I had really been drawn to one—Roxie had just enough in her coloring and, more importantly, in her eyes to remind us of Belly without appearing like a ghost of the friend we'd lost. And that seemed perfect.

So Belly's not been replaced, just supplemented. After all, it was she who, along with Bowie, taught this cat hater—or rather, former cat hater—how to love a feline in the first place. And by extension, every time we shower Roxie with affection, a bit of it will be indirectly headed Belly's way, too. After all, they say you never get over your first love. And I know I sure won't.

A gallery of photos from Roxie's homecoming can be viewed here.