Change of Name on the Cat Due to a Slight Fuck Up

I made the 2- 1/2 hour drive to Hartford City, Indiana, on Saturday and enjoyed myself tremendously, despite the fact that I had to get up and get going at 6:00 a.m. on a goddamn weekend. It was a gorgeous day for a drive through the country with all the leaves turning for fall. There were golds and reds and lots of sunshine.

The folks in Hartford City are about as nice as they come. I had to stop and ask directions to the shelter on the edge of town, and I had four people at the Quik Stop helping me. Thank you Hartford City!

It's good that I stopped to ask, because the shelter was out in the country and very small. The ladies working at the shelter were both lovely and kind, and the poor animals are lucky to get them. They said that they try and keep the shelter as no-kill as possible. It would not be easy, as their facility is so small. So, if you live anywhere near Hartford City, please help them out and adopt a lovely pet.

I found the shelter a little early, so I drove back to town to get a cup of coffee at the local McDonalds. I have never seen a busier place in my life! I had trouble getting out of the damn parking lot when I went to leave. God bless smalltown Indiana--they actually still have a smoking section available in the restaurant. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Ohio is non-smoking in every bar and restaurant. Ohioans are pinheads, but we still drive better than the damn Hoosiers. Sorry, but it's true.

Anyhoo, I really enjoyed sitting in McDonald's, listening to the local men talk about various things. I felt right at home. I grew up in a small farming town, and I guess I miss it.

I got to the shelter around 9:30, and the nice lady working there (Vicki) said that they hoped they had gotten the right kitten. There was a male and a female (brother and sister) at the house where they were being fostered, and they had trouble catching one of them, so they brought the one that they were able to catch. And yes, it turned out it was the girl kitten. So, Ozzy won't really work for her.

The whole drive home I thought of potential names, and I have lots of male names I like, but very few female ones. I like Cheyenne a lot, but it just didn't fit her somehow. I considered Auden (my favorite poet) and Drayton (after one of my favourite streets in Savannah), but I decided that since she is a beautiful long-haired gray, that I would name her Shelby after Shelby Foote, one of my favourite people of all time. For a middle name, I gave her the best southern name ever: Lee. So I have a Shelby Lee. All my kids have good southern names, except the pre-named ones. I wasn't about to give them damn Yankee monikers. Uh-unh. They're little rebels, goddammit.

Shelby is skinny as a damn rail, but eats hardy. She is about as sweet a soul as I have ever encountered. I let her out of her cat cage about a half-hour down the road, and she rode in my lap a lot of the way home. I bought an extra bacon-egg-cheese bagel and fed her most of the bacon off of it. She was so hungry.

When I got Shelby home (remember, I have a dog and five cats already), Shelby got right down on the floor with them and didn't hide or hiss, and Ginger about drove her nuts smelling on her, and some of other cats were rather mean to her. She sat on the couch next to me most of the day. I really love her, and she is a TOTAL joy. Worth every mile and every dollar to adopt her. She was even worth getting up THAT EARLY for, and I can't say a whole damn lot else would be.

This morning, Shelby and Bella (my other kitten) shared the windowsill in the bathroom tentatively. It was a good sign, and it made me very happy.

I am going to bring Shelby into work with me after lunch this afternoon, as we have a skeletal staff today, due to the annual off site. I can't wait to show her off.

She is a blessing. I am blessed.

[The photo above is of Dakota, Shelby's brother, but they look nearly exactly alike. Dakota is the cat I originally went after, but I guess fate had other plans. Sweet plans.]