I myself was never a cat person, but when my cousin couldn’t find a home for her beloved kitty Hannah after her son was diagnosed with a severe allergy, I couldn’t imagine her poor cat being carted off to a shelter. In a frenzy of dramatics I told Neil that Hannah was being taken to a kill shelter (lies, lies, lies) and that we HAD to adopt her or else my cousin’s life would be destroyed. I assured Neil that I had a backup family, just in case Hannah was a terror (also a lie. I had no backup).
At first I was terrified of Hannah and was pretty confident I had made a huge mistake. I was waiting for the cat to lunge at me and start eating my face. Cat’s do things like that, right?
The first few nights Hannah slept in Neil’s closet in a shoe box. Every so often she would come to me and with her beautiful green eyes ask to be cuddled. After a week at our apartment she seemed to be at home and I seemed to be turning into a cat person. I did things like call Hannah my daughter and told her that she was the most beautiful girl in the world.
On evening 8 I heard a meow while I was in bed catching up on some trash television while Neil was out of town. I couldn’t tell what Hannah wanted until she jumped up on the bed with all of her might making some weird noise that was no doubt some type of effort to help lunge herself on the bed. She was eating. A lot. But I felt perhaps she was eating her feelings during this strange transition, so I wasn’t going to stop her. One time Neil bought a new bag of cat food and we left it in the kitchen. Hannah still had food, but she could see the silver bottom of the bowl. She went into panic mode. She. Needed. Food. And she had no idea when we were coming back. She took matters into her own paws. We came home to find the bottom of the bag shredded by Hannah’s sharp claws. Cat food was everywhere. We found Hannah peacefully sleeping on the couch. We will never know how much she ate that night.
I digress. After she got onto the bed, she head butted her way onto my pillow. Wait, wait, wait. She wants to sleep with me? Part of me was so happy. Part of me was worried it was face eating time. While I was falling in love with Hannah, I was still kind of afraid of her. Neil would come home in two days to find Hannah sitting on the end of the bed licking her bloody chops and see my face was made into a cheese-less pizza. I probably slept for 10-minutes that night. I didn’t have the heart to kick her off the bed and I needed to protect my anti-wrinkle cream ridden face.
To my delight, Hannah just wanted to snuggle and ever since that night she has slept in our bed. In April we will have had Hannah for one year. And we love her…maybe a little too much.
On Saturday night Neil and I stayed in to enjoy a lovely gift he received from his boss – a chunk of black truffle. I personally had only ever had truffle oil, which apparently doesn’t even contain truffle – but I still love it.
I made this simple recipe and we shaved the truffle over the pasta. It was heaven. I was surprised at how nutty the flavor of a real truffle is. Meanwhile Hannah went into crazy-cat mode. She would not stop meowing and she was looking at me with slightly insane cat eyes. Apparently she loves the smell of truffles – I’m not surprised. You can see below just how classy this girl actually is.