Let me begin by explaining what this story is not.
It is not the story of how I met my husband - or of how anyone met their spouse.
This is not the story of someone's birth.
This is the story of my husband and his cat.
In early September 2013, I received a Facebook message from a church friend. One of his coworkers asked him to pray about some cats who needed a home. This man's girlfriend worked at a vet clinic, and three wonderful, sweet cats had been there for two months. They were abandoned and would be put down the following Monday if they did not find a home. They were absolutely free. Alex decided he wouldn't just pray, but he would also help them find a home. He sent pictures of the cats with his message.
We had been looking all summer for a cat or two. However, we just couldn't afford the fees from our local animal control. It would be $75 per cat, and we were on a single income. We were looking for just the right free cats. These cats turned out to be up to date on their shots, spayed and neutered, and declawed (not something I would have chosen, but to make a long story short, it became a blessing when they got in a bad fight about six months after we got them - Crookshanks and I took a midnight trip to the emergency vet after Minerva tore him up with just her back claws!).
I wanted the one black cat in the photos. Those other two? Nope, nope, nope. That yellow one would leave hair everywhere, and the striped one...just kind of looked evil to me. I forwarded the message to Trevor, who thought the striped one was a dead ringer for one he had as a child, and he eventually got in contact with the vet clinic. The black one had found a home, but the other two had no serious inquiries. He was told that they were actually good friends, and they liked each other a lot. That was on a Friday afternoon, so they told us to come in on Monday to see them. We went out that afternoon and bought two litter boxes, two cat beds, and two carriers.
When we walked into the vet clinic, they took us to the back room where they had several animals in cages. The second the door opened, we heard an excited whimper. The sound came from a cage at chest level. The vet tech opened the door, and a striped cat jumped into Trevor's arms.
"She's going home with us," Trevor said, scratching her chin.
I knew in that instant that I had just witnessed love at first sight.
Though Minerva is sweet and affectionate with me, our relationship is nothing like the one she has with Trevor. She sleeps with him (often on top of him) each night that he is home. She sits on his lap in the evenings when we watch Netflix, and she is never far away from him. She's gotten so upset when he left for work that she would throw up on the floor right by the door to our garage. Minerva is always there to greet Trevor when he walks in the door, even if it's 4 AM.
You may be wondering about Crookshanks and me. Well, things weren't quite so easy with him...but that's a story for another day.