Congratulations to the winner of the A Day to Remember Contest. Eileen's heartwarmingly simple story of a cat adoption struck me the moment I read it. I love how she delivered the story in such a sweet, loving way. I loved the way she closed the entry. Perhaps she really does finish her entries with "See ya later." Also, the enclosed photos of her cat added a personal touch. Congratulations, Eileen!
Dear Diary,
I was eager to start my day, as I knew that I would be going to the animal shelter to look for a cat. The image in my mind was clear, either a gray or an orange tabby kitten. I had already decided the name for my cat, no matter which it was. It was unlike Mo or Scooter, this name was completely unique. Wessah, it meant cat in the Cherokee language. Though it was somewhat lame to call your cat “cat”, it just seemed like the perfect name for my special kitten.
There was an air of anticipation as my family and I walked into the shelter. There was a thick scent of animals, but I didn’t mind. There were cages lining the walls, cats and kittens inside.
I spotted a cage where black and orange kittens were playing. At once, a small light orange kitten struck my eye. He was alone, resting, while the rest of the kittens were playing. Everyone seemed doubtful of this little Wessah except for me. They thought he appeared sickly, even though one of the workers kept saying that he had been playing with the others earlier that day. All the other kittens kept pouncing on him, begging him to play while he slept.
I stuck my finger through the cage at him, and he put out a paw and touched my finger. It was quick, but I realized then that the little orange kitten, lighter, smaller, and younger, had chosen me. All the other kittens had played with my finger of course, but this one had some significance about it, I could just feel it. He was definitely the one.
There were two cats that we wanted to take out of the cage. These were the orange kitten (my Wessah), and a little black and white cat. I held the little orange kitten. He was apparently not much for being held, and with my little experience-holding cats, he walked out onto my arm and I was afraid he would fall. Fortunately, someone put out a helpful hand and took him from me.
How would we choose which cat to get? We would look into the kitten’s eyes to see which looked healthier. There was a moment of tension as we peered into the kittens eyes. The little black and white kitten’s eyes were slightly juicy, while the orange kitten’s eyes were bright and healthy! Relief poured over me.
We would get the orange kitten! I knew that this was my Wessah, my cat for life.
See ya later,
Eileen
P.S. There were a few complications with adopting the little kitten, but we eventually were able to take him home a few days later. He is now two and a healthy cat, mine forever.
I was eager to start my day, as I knew that I would be going to the animal shelter to look for a cat. The image in my mind was clear, either a gray or an orange tabby kitten. I had already decided the name for my cat, no matter which it was. It was unlike Mo or Scooter, this name was completely unique. Wessah, it meant cat in the Cherokee language. Though it was somewhat lame to call your cat “cat”, it just seemed like the perfect name for my special kitten.
There was an air of anticipation as my family and I walked into the shelter. There was a thick scent of animals, but I didn’t mind. There were cages lining the walls, cats and kittens inside.
I spotted a cage where black and orange kittens were playing. At once, a small light orange kitten struck my eye. He was alone, resting, while the rest of the kittens were playing. Everyone seemed doubtful of this little Wessah except for me. They thought he appeared sickly, even though one of the workers kept saying that he had been playing with the others earlier that day. All the other kittens kept pouncing on him, begging him to play while he slept.
I stuck my finger through the cage at him, and he put out a paw and touched my finger. It was quick, but I realized then that the little orange kitten, lighter, smaller, and younger, had chosen me. All the other kittens had played with my finger of course, but this one had some significance about it, I could just feel it. He was definitely the one.
There were two cats that we wanted to take out of the cage. These were the orange kitten (my Wessah), and a little black and white cat. I held the little orange kitten. He was apparently not much for being held, and with my little experience-holding cats, he walked out onto my arm and I was afraid he would fall. Fortunately, someone put out a helpful hand and took him from me.
How would we choose which cat to get? We would look into the kitten’s eyes to see which looked healthier. There was a moment of tension as we peered into the kittens eyes. The little black and white kitten’s eyes were slightly juicy, while the orange kitten’s eyes were bright and healthy! Relief poured over me.
We would get the orange kitten! I knew that this was my Wessah, my cat for life.
See ya later,
Eileen
P.S. There were a few complications with adopting the little kitten, but we eventually were able to take him home a few days later. He is now two and a healthy cat, mine forever.
