In the beginning… there was Darwin
So I’ve decided to re purpose this a bit in an attempt to write more and talk about writing more less… The recent addition of a tiny ginger kitten named Darwin has made my life more interesting..or it has at least yielded more stories for me to share. True to any life long love hate affair (see my first day at work in the hospitality industry…) the story of Darwin begins in a less than illustrious way.
I had finally convinced the man friend that getting a cat would be a good idea and so we began the search. After a few weeks of looking at some very adorable critters we were still catless. Then, one night after work I sat down to peruse and there he was.
His tongue was sticking out in his photo. His eyes were entirely black and he looked like pure trouble.
Hasty e-mails resulted in the lady who owned him telling me she had good vibes about me and that he was mine as soon as we could come pick him up.
One problem…. he was located in Aylesford which is about a 2 hour drive from Halifax. No big deal. We struck a deal to borrow a car and we were all business….
Sunday morning rolled around and the forecast was calling for snow so we awoke bright an early after having a late night at work. We piled into the car and set off for our new man.
We found the place, and picked up our new terror from a somewhat crazy but totally friendly crazy cat lady (she had 14 of her own cats! 14!). He was totally willing to go and was cool calm and collected as we put him in his carrier and into the back seat of the car. All smiles, all easy.
Yeah right.
We made it approximately 3minutes before the crying began. The ad for him said he was a chatterbox, but wow. He started crying like we were torturing him or something. He was awfully loud for something so tiny. Ok, so no big deal a little mewing is not so terrible to deal with.
And then… then he shit in the carrier. Now, by this time, the snow had started to fly and it was freezing cold outside, and the fact that he messed himself only caused our tiny new bundle of joy to scream even louder. So here we were, speeding down the road, trying to beat the snowstorm, with the windows rolled down to dissipate the incredibly out of this world foul smell of kitten shit.
We eventually had to pull over at a gas station, try to clean the cat up as best we could and then continue on home to Halifax.
Shirtless (on Chris’s part… the cat needed something to lay on…), and incredibly unsure of our new decision we made it home in one piece, but just barely.
And that was the illustrious start of the ginger cat named Darwin……
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