Red Room Where the Writers Are

When my cats Electra and Baby died seven months ago, people asked me when I was going to get a new cat. At first, the question irritated me. You don't tell people who have lost a child "Hey! Just get a new kid!" But I knew they were trying to be kind, trying to put a salve on my wound. I wasn't ready for a new kitten, I just was so so sad.

            Slowly I started to feel better, and I started to think about a new kitten. Who was the person who said that kittens are like Prozac? It's so true. I knew I wanted a kitten instead of an older cat. I know that sounds awful but because I have Gussie my older cat I didn't feel like it would be fair to either of them to fight for Alpha Cat status.

 I knew a couple of things. I knew I didn't want a black and white cat, because Electra was black and white. One time I walked in a pet store and I saw a black and white cat that looked exactly like her. I had to walk out of the store because I started crying. I knew I wanted to honor Electra somehow, but how?

            I meditated on it and I waited. Then my dad told me he needed a copy of the divorce decree between him and my mother for his veteran's benefits. God forbid he gets Kaiser on the side. Anyway, the superior court is in Martinez, the county seat in Contra Costa County. The animal shelter is also in Martinez. I thought what the heck? After picking up the copy of the decree, I could see kittens.

            I went on the shelter's website and started to look at the kittens. I had gone to a couple of pet websites but they were pet rescue groups' websites. Don't get me wrong, they do wonderful work, but after the Ellen DeDengeres debacle and a kitten would cost $500, I decided against a pet rescue group.

            I scrolled down the kitten's website, wanting to adopt them all. I'll open a kitten sanctuary! Okay, they'll grow up to be cats, but I want them all!

            And then I saw her.

            She was creamy white, and her nose was black. She looked a bit dazed and stunned, like when Mustafa held Simba in The Lion King.  However, I looked at her and I said aloud "It's Ida B!"

            That was another thing I knew. I knew I had to have a female kitten, and I knew her name was going to be Ida B. It was for Ida B. Wells, a civil rights activist from the 1800's, and for an old blues song called "Miss Ida B." Darlene Arden had sent me a snow globe through Facebook and on the snow globe's base, there was a white cat. She looked exactly like the kitten in the picture.

            So when my mother arrived from work, I told her we had to go get her. I showed her the picture. "Oh, it's her!" Mom exclaimed. We were in sync.

            We went over to the shelter and I was so scared someone was going to take her. I called before hand and was on hold for half an hour before they could tell me that yes, she was still there. But when we got there, a worker told us she was still too young to leave the shelter, and we had to wait because someone might want to claim her. Never mind her notes said she was left in the dead of night with her littermates. Nope! Someone might change their minds and come back!
            I went home defeated. However, something told me that we had to go back, we needed to go back. They were wrong. It was meant to be. I convinced Mom to go back and we found a helpful volunteer who checked with Josh, a clerk at the shelter to see when the kittens would be available for adoption. He checked the room and said "They are available now. They screwed up with the signs and the unavailable kittens are across the way."

            At first, we couldn't see her. I thought well, she was adopted. I looked at one and I said could I hold her? Josh gave her to me. I put her near my face and held her. Then I noticed the number on her collar was the one that matched the one I saw on the website. "Ida B!" I said.

            After doing the paperwork, Josh took us back again to hold her and make sure this was the one. "You have a name for her?" he asked.

            "Ida B," I said.

            "I like it," he said. "Ida B. is in the house!"

            He told me that Ida B. is a cross breed, and that she was a long hair kitten. "She's pretty rare," he said to us. I almost chuckled. Well Electra, you had to pick a rare kitten for us. You have to understand, Electra was so cosmopolitan, such a lady. Of course, she chose a rare breed of a cat for us. It made sense.

            When we left the room, I suddenly became dizzy. I had to sit down for a while. Then it hit me; this was the same place nineteen years before my best friend Meranda picked out Electra for me. Nineteen years later, I chose Ida B. at the same shelter.

            After telling Gussie about Ida B., we made plans for her. She would sleep in my room for a while, and we would buy kitten food the next day. We were going to bring her home Saturday because tomorrow she's getting fixed.

            That night I went to bed so thankful. I also knew that Ida B. wasn't Electra. Of course she wasn't E. E was a rare breed. But a new beginning was starting, one with Ida B. Thank you, I whispered. Thank you.