waiting for magic...

The Great Gatsby is one of my favorite pieces of “literature.” I’m not usually a girl who will read high literature on a Saturday morning, but Gatsby makes it on to my list (along with Jane Austin and Jane Eyre and a few others). Not to say I don’t read; I read a lot. I love to read. It’s just that often it’s Harry Potter and Chick Lit (the Chick Flick of fiction). I love Gatsby for many reasons, but part of it is its perceptive nature of love and emotional torture. In fact, my favorite quote is:

"They were careless people, Tom and Daisy -- they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made"

Don’t ask me why I love this quote so much. The way it has related to me in the past really no longer applies, it’s just that I still feel for Gatsby.

The past week has been wonderful. A little hectic, but overall positive. I wake up in the morning and there’s a warm body sleeping next to me. Or running around the apartment. Yes, that’s right; I’m no longer living alone. I have a cat. Sarah came up last weekend and suggested we go to the Colorado Humane Society to get a kitten or two for my apartment. This is something I’ve been thinking about for a while so we set off. After getting lost a few times, we managed to the cramped little shelter. Although the kittens were cute, as I was reaching down into their cage, another cat reached out and pawed me. He was so insistent in his bid for my affection that I pulled him out of his little prison to hold him. He was so sweet and after I heard that he’d been at the shelter for 5 months, I knew I had to have him. Kittens always find homes…not always the case for cats like “Squeakers” (their name for him, which I refused to call him). The shelter thought he was about 3 or 4 years old…I’m taking him to the vet next week, so we’ll find out for sure.

All day Sunday I was starting to regret my decision. I knew it would be hard for him to adjust, but he was hiding out under my bed and refused to be coaxed out. So I decided to give him time, but I couldn’t help but feeling a little lonely and depressed (the nasty/cold weather didn’t help).

Now we’ve established more of a routine. The past couple of days when I come home from work he’s not hiding but waiting by the door for me. He walks around the kitchen talking while I make dinner. And he knows when I’m getting ready for bed. He hops up on the bed, meows insistently, and quickly snuggles up next to me (actively looking to be pet) as I get under the covers.

He’s gone through a few names but I think I’ve finally decided on Gatsby

Posted by Dana on Monday, October 15, 2007 at 7:06 PM | Permalink