She clawed her way into my heart and wouldn’t let go.
~Terri Guillemets
Late one Sunday evening, I was suddenly captivated by a pair of baby blue eyes! The Siamese cat, Cleo, had such a sweet, expressive face I figured the Petfinder website posting had to be an old one. Surely someone had already adopted her!
But what if she was still available? I had to know for certain.
According to the posting, Cleo was being featured at a Tampa Petco. All through the night, restless and unable to sleep, I counted the eleven long hours until they opened so I could ask about her. Over and over, I returned to look at Cleo’s photo on the website — there was just something about those beautiful blue eyes.
When I made the call, a Petco employee gave me the great news that Cleo was still there, but then I was immediately cautioned.
“Cleo may have been spoken for, so I’ll need to double-check with Mary, the lady from the rescue agency, who handles adoptions.”
I provided my contact information as the waiting game began anew, and tried remaining hopeful while reminding myself that if Cleo had already found her new home, then maybe it was for the best. But I just couldn’t get those blue eyes out of my mind.
Fortunately, Mary was prompt in returning my call. “Hi, were you calling about Cleo?”
“Yes! Is she still available for adoption? I hope so!”
When Mary didn’t immediately respond, my heart sank. Was I too late? A few excruciating seconds passed as I waited, trying to be patient.
“Oops, sorry, I got distracted there for a minute,” Mary laughed. “A kitten I’m fostering was shredding some newspaper. Anyway, yes, Cleo’s still available. She’s very petite and looks like a Siamese, but has the extra toes of a Hemingway cat.”
“A Siamese Hemingway sounds adorable! Ernest Hemingway’s home in Key West is the only place where I’ve seen a polydactyl cat.”
“Oh, Cleo’s quite special! I saved her and her three kittens in the nick of time just one day before they were to be put to sleep, and the little survivor was quick to show her gratitude,” said Mary. “When I brought her into foster care, she not only nursed her own babies, but also four other kittens. At only eleven months old, her life has already been a busy one!”
But Mary also had something else to tell me.
“Listen, I must be honest with you. Cleo was born with misaligned front legs, so she’s unable to walk on her toes like other cats.”
I was stunned. My husband, Bill, and I had recently lost a beloved cat to an illness. Did we dare take in another with potential medical challenges, only to face heartbreak once more? My questions tumbled out as I tried to understand.
“Can she get around by herself? Will she need to be carried to the litter box and her food bowls?”
“Oh, Cleo’s not disabled. She’s just different and very adaptable,” Mary quickly assured me. “She’s learned to walk on her elbows instead of her toes!”
“That’s hard for me to imagine,” I said quietly.
Mary sighed. “So many people have seen Cleo’s photo and were interested at first, until they came to see her in person, watched her walk, and decided not to adopt her. Trust me. She is healthy and very adoptable. All she needs is for someone to believe in her.”
I sat quietly, trying to picture the sweet-faced cat with the beautiful baby blue eyes walking on her elbows.
“We understand if you need time to think about it,” Mary said kindly. “But in the meantime, if somebody decides to adopt her, I’ll have to let her go with them. There are so many homeless animals we’re trying to place.”
I promised to call Mary back. After discussing everything with Bill, we were both touched by the story of a tiny cat with the big heart and lots of courage. We decided to give little Cleo the chance she deserved. Within an hour, my mom and I started on the seventy-five-minute trip to Tampa.
In my excitement, I forgot to call Mary to let her know we were on our way.
Mom and I drove down I-4 to Tampa, excitedly talking about Cleo. We wanted to give her a new name that better described her special legs and feet, so we tried out names like “Digit” and “Toes.” I’d read that some polydactyl cats have what is known as “mitten paws,” with an extra toe attached in a thumb-like appearance, so the name “Thumbelina” also came to mind.
Suddenly, a warning light flared. We were low on gas. After locating a gas station, I looked at my map, only to realize I had made a wrong turn! We needed to double-back. To make matters worse, it had begun to rain.
Rush-hour traffic ground to a halt as the skies opened up with a heavy rainstorm. The afternoon turned into early evening. Cellphone service failed to connect. I was in tears, upset with myself for not contacting Mary before we left home, frustrated for not paying attention to the map. What if someone adopted Cleo before we got there?
Finally, the exit sign came into view. We drove into the Petco parking lot and breathed a sigh of relief. As we entered the store, a lady walked past, wheeling a cart.
“I just adopted the Siamese cat,” she said proudly, and pointed at the cat carrier nestled inside her cart.
My heart sank. We were too late. Tears rolled down my cheeks. As Mom tried consoling me, a store employee approached and asked if we needed help.
“We drove a long way to see Cleo, but a lady just told us she adopted the Siamese cat,” I said, tearfully.
The employee smiled. “Don’t worry! She adopted the last of Cleo’s kittens, but Cleo is still here!”
We couldn’t believe our ears! We followed the employee to a room with cages, all empty except for one.
Mary arrived with a smile and gently placed Cleo on the floor. When those beautiful baby blue eyes met mine, tears fell anew. As the little cat shuffled pigeon-toed on her elbows to joyfully greet us with sweet friendliness, Mom described the scene perfectly by saying that Cleo reminded her of a little girl trying to walk in her mother’s shoes.
Cleo didn’t protest when I scooped her up and lovingly stroked her special legs. From that moment on, she was ours.
Her large paws resemble catchers’ mitts, so we decided to rename her Mitzi, and she never fails to amaze us with her adaptability. There’s so much she can do! She can sit by tucking her longest front leg inside her hip to keep from toppling over. She can pluck toys from her toy box and bat them around by swinging her elbows like hockey sticks. She can sit up like a meerkat and daintily nibble treats from an outstretched hand. Most importantly, she can bravely overcome her challenges in her own special way, and she never fails to bring us joy.
~Lisa Faire Graham
