Here’s the intro and link to a story by CLAIRE LUNA-PINSKER in the Pocono Record.
My husband adored cats.
I believed cats were sneaky, hair-shedding, furniture-clawing, mice-killing beasts. They had strange quirks, like staring you straight in the face. My son had a hyper Labrador, Jimi Hendrix, who I was already too much involved with. But my husband persisted, so for his birthday I accompanied him to the animal shelter to "just look" at kittens.
Since it was early in March, there weren’t any kittens available. My husband held several cats, but if we were going to be cat owners, I preferred to start with a kitten so maybe I could grow to like the furball. We discussed the issue further, and my husband insisted a mature cat would suit us better. He went back in and noticed an employee come out with a box of kittens which had just arrived from down south. Out of the box came a sandy-colored calico kitten. Rather quickly, Elvis was processed and in our car.
Non-cat-lover finds ’soul mate’ in feline friend
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