Last January 9, which is my father’s birthday, we made a match with a kitten that had been dumped at an HEB (our local grocery store chain). A kindhearted soul noticed this little tabby female at the entry to the store. The kitten was stropping legs, meowing, looking for something to eat. The kitten who would become Xochi was taken to a lovely home for fostering, and soon her picture appeared in my Facebook feed. As sometimes happens, I saw that photo and realized: This is the kitty we are hoping for! We had been sensing that it was time to bring a new cat into the household, for Fiona (our border collie) was clearly at a loss after the death of Leftovers, who lived a very full 19 years. Leftovers helped raise Fiona, and they were close friends. She was moping and so were we.
So, on my Dad’s birthday, we set out to meet Xochi. I was quite sure that Dad, who always had a soft spot for animals needing a home, was the gentle spirit behind this matchmaking. No doubt, from his perspective in the community of saints, Dad was interceding for us, asking that the right feline might come our way.
We drove out to a house near Leon Springs. The woman who was fostering the kitty brought her out from the laundry room. My husband Doug said that the minute he saw that dear little face, he knew she was going home with us. And she did.
At first, having a 3-4 month old kitten was a little like having a baby. I got up with her during the night when she was hungry. I made sure she had water and was warm. Then, within a week, that fuzz ball had decided that the only place to sleep was at the foot of the bed. She liked our company! In ways subtle and not, Xochi (which is an Aztec word meaning “flower”) set about rearranging our schedules. At first, she did not go outside. Over time, as the weather warmed, she was allowed out, with a collar, for short times. She learned over time to climb trees and to catch lizards. She became more and more courageous, venturing farther out into the yard. Now she is queen of the backyard, and has the good sense not to venture over the fence where the barking dogs live.
Initially not at all sure what to make of a dog, Xochi would hiss at Fiona, who would retreat, looking so sad. Fiona would try again. And again. Over time, they have become friends. Occasionally they sleep next to each other on our bed. They play their version of “hide and seek.” They also do “parallel play” when they are outside, and sometimes Xochi surprises Fiona by jumping out from a hiding place in the plumbago.
Now Xochi is around a year old. She eats adult Science Diet cat food. She won’t keep a collar on, letting us know that she can handle herself, thank you very much. She isn’t a lap cat, but she is very sociable. When we work in the gardens, she is always interested in what we are doing. When she hears us drive into the car port, she stirs from sleep and comes to see what’s up. We reciprocate by checking on her whereabouts throughout the day, and by greeting her with nose-bumps. She occasionally puts a paw on me, as if to say, “You are mine.”
I look back on bringing her home, adjusting to her kitten behaviors, living through the awful week of SNOWVID with her in heat (she was spayed as soon as the vet would allow), teaching her about being outside, playing her various games and enjoying her presence and all I can say is, “Thank God she came to live with us.” We needed a younger presence in this house. We needed the silly antics of a kitten and the pleasure of watching the ongoing discoveries of a young cat. We needed her company.
She came to us as a little stranger, needing food and shelter, water and warmth. We said to her, in the bilingual tradition of San Antonio, “Aqui tienes tu casa. Nuestra casa es tu casa.” Fiona wagged her tail. We grinned like crazy. And a kitten brought her own joy and spiritual direction to this household.
