Room with a Mew

We hope you enjoy it.

My wife always says it was love at first sight - but she’s not talking about me. 

Three years ago, the most beautiful cat came into our lives. She was a tiny, young Siamese mix, her snow-white coat, streaked with midnight patches here and there, her piercing eyes as blue as the ocean. She was the neighborhood heartbreaker, that’s for sure. 

She stood proud and confident on a window ledge on our back porch, knowing good and well we were going to feed her. We hadn’t lived in the house very long so we came to the conclusion the home’s previous occupants took care of this little beauty. 
 
Because of her tiny stature, we named her “Little Kitty”. We’re not exactly candidates to pen a book about imaginative pet names. 

We began to take care of her as if she were our own. Since our house cat was a little on the older side and set in his “this-is-my-house” ways, we kept Little Kitty outside, knowing the two wouldn’t mingle well. 

Converting our detached garage into somewhat of a cool little cat-pad, we made her as comfortable as possible. She got her own bed, with a blanket to keep warm, her own toys and of course as much food as she wanted - the good stuff, too, the canned food. She came and went as she pleased, squeezing through a door we left partially open.  

Good news travels fast in the cat community, apparently, and soon we found ourselves with more feline visitors, all wanting to check into our makeshift cat hotel. We call it “Pawaday Inn”. 

Each cat is given a name based on appearance or personality. A rather rambunctious cat who, when spooked, stands up on his hind legs and makes pawing motions with his front legs, was instantly known as “Kung Fu Kitty”. A haggard-looking cat whose presence causes the other cats to scram is known as “Mean Kitty”. One day, Mean Kitty chased another cat across our backyard; the other cat got away. Thus was born “Fast Kitty”. 

Besides Little Kitty, “Baby Kitty” may have been our favorite guest. Just a few months old, the gray tabby jumped into my wife’s car as she headed to work - unbeknownst to her, of course - and proceeded to crawl all over her head. He was so friendly and affectionate, we made him an honorary Pawaday Inn guest, keeping him for about a week, until we tracked down his owners. 

We’ve been running Pawaday Inn for a few years now, but the time has come for it to close. As of this writing, my family is moving from one side of town to another. My wife has grown so attached to Little Kitty - she is, after all, the only permanent guest in our little cat hotel - we’re still debating whether we should take her with us. She’s a temperamental thing, all purrs and leg rubs when she’s hungry but standoff-ish - and a bit skittish - otherwise. She bolts every time we try to take her to the vet. 

We’re hoping the next family who moves in will keep caring for Little Kitty and all her feline friends, and that the sign for Pawaday Inn will never go dim.