The shelter was overflowing with kittens. They were everywhere. I was on fluffy overload. As I went between the two cat houses, I couldn't believe that I wasn't finding the soul of my beloved B-Phat in any of the cats I held. That soul that has come to me each time I have needed it and it never fails to give me unconditional love, affection and gratitude.
Then a volunteer came in with a pet carrier. Inside it was the most beautiful Snowshoe-Siamese mix I have ever seen. Eyes as deep blue as the waters I love to dive and a chocolate brown coat that begged to be petted. The volunteer appeared to be so blase in his duties that he banged the carrier around a few times when he sat it down to prepare a cage for this gorgeous animal. A new home for what will be the last days of his life.
The minute I looked into those eyes I saw that soul. The soul of my Turbo. My Baby Kitty. My Bud E Phat. That soul that seams to find me every time I have an empty spot at the food dish. That soul that I have loved so deeply that I would give my last breath to save. And on Sunday, I broke my heart and walked away from all he promised yet again. For on this animal were four words that will condemn this wonderful creature to a death that even I can not delay: Owner Surrender ~ Behavioral/Urination.
Before I even laid eyes on the surrender form, I knew I wanted this cat. A cat that had been someone's faithful companion for 7 years and was now looking so lost at the drastic change in his life. The soul I have been blessed with three times before, shone brightly behind those blue eyes, pleading with me to take him home again. I had found him once more and my heart cried in joy. But this time was not meant to be. This time logic won instead of my heart and I chose another.
That is not to say I do not adore the cute little orange and white tabby that is to come home with me next Saturday. I have known this kitten soul before. He is the soul of Thomas O' Malley. He lives with my Dad for now, but time is winning that age old battle with him. (Thomas lived with me after Turbo had gone but stayed by my Dad's side after I had gone.) I know that his playful demeanor and little "chirping" noises are what drew me to him. Soon he will have covered my house and heart with cat-fur and I will love him as much as my Elsa. Maybe one day, my old soul will come to see me again through him. But for now my soul is back there in a 3'x5' cage waiting for a rescue that this time can not come. He is waiting for a heart that is fractured by reality, logic and reason instead of being ruled by instinct, faith and love. For this I hope he can forgive me and once again come to find me when the time comes.