full circle

After Dante died in July, we knew we were going to get another cat sooner rather than later, if only for Cocoa's sake. He's such a social creature; having him as a solo cat is sort of like experiencing half his personality. Sad for all of us.

I feel two ways about getting cats with pedigrees. There are so very many adorable cats at shelters and rescue organizations and in kitten boxes in someone's back yard, all waiting for someone to adopt them. On the other hand, I love that there are such distinct cat breeds. Turkish Angoras in particular: they're an ancient, natural breed, their long silky hair an adaptation to the high mountain chill. They are in fact the ancestors of most, if not all long haired cats, including Persians and Maine Coons. But they came close to dying out in the early 1900's, saved from extinction by a breeding program in the Ankara Zoo. It's still a rare breed. In my way, by spending the money, I'm contributing to the survival of the Turk. So we do both: rescue and buy. Dante was a Turkish Angora. Cocoa is a rescue cat.

So this summer I contacted Dante's breeder, a lovely woman in Boston. I told her what had happened and asked if she knew of any kittens of his lineage. Dante was neutered young and never had kittens, but his sister Wildfire was a grand champion and was mother to other grands. Iris referred me to a breeder in Connecticut, who had a mom scheduled to give birth in early September. The kittens would be Dante's sister's great-great grandkids. Tenuous but better than nothing. That link would be there.

In early September, I emailed with the Connecticut breeder. She had two pet-quality kittens, a white boy and a cream-and-white boy. We started tossing around dates to visit and take a look at them. Then I had a dream. In it, we were planning to take one of the kittens, but then all of a sudden, someone showed up with another cat. A white female rescue cat. "But we were planning to get a Turk," I said. "This is a Turk," she said. "Oh, okay, then." And I woke up, confused. What was that about?

I dismissed the dream, moved ahead with plans to look at the kittens.

But then the kittens didn't sound quite right. One was too nervous, the other had a physical fault Dan didn't feel comfortable with. Maybe we should wait for another litter? I contacted Iris, Dante's breeder. She asked if I was willing to take an adult. You see, there was this one year old white female, extremely sweet, she was scheduled to be bred but developed an infection and had to get an emergency spaying. She needed a home.

We picked her up today. Her name is Jessie James and she's Dante's sister's granddaughter. As I type this, she lies curled up against my side. The sweetest kitty imaginable. Her owner – the one who had been planning to breed her – told me beforehand that she would be reserved at first but once she warmed up, she bonded deeply. Well, when we held her at the cat show this morning, she purred. I think she knew we were her new people.