Last year for my birthday, Brice drove me to a house where I was allowed to pick a kitten from a six-week old litter. It was so hard to leave Willow in the States that I wasn’t sure I could go through the bonding process with another cat while I lived in Egypt.
But we were walking in the Al Rehab marketplace yesterday and I had the (mis)fortune of seeing some kittens at a pet store. I (of course) went over to pet them. Most of them were sleeping but one of them opened her little eyes and reached a small, fluffy paw through the metal cage at me. My heart broke. I pestered Brice about going back and rescuing her for the next 20 hours.
20 hours later we were on a bus heading back to the marketplace. We arrived at 5:30 pm, and purchased a few items at the supermarket and a few cat necessities at a different pet store before we found the right store with the kittens.
The store was closed. We decided to wait.
Over the next four hours we drank an Apple Fanta, ate two twinkies, and a weird chocolate “Party Swiss Roll” that wasn’t half bad.
The store opened at 10 pm. Everyone working in the stores beside the pet store must have thought we were desperate. I guess I was.
I chose the kitten I’d “bonded” with the night before, after confirming it was still the most interactive and adorable of the bunch. I walked back through the market with her held to my chest, and boarded two buses with her before she met her new home. She didn’t fuss for a second throughout and played with my fingers while on the buses.
When we got home she pranced around the tile floor, slipping and sliding on her furry paws. As I write this she’s stretched out against me recovering from a big day.