Shortly after our baby boy passed away my husband and I knew we didn’t want to be alone anymore. We couldn’t be alone. We had each other but we were struggling. There were days where at least one of us would be alone in an empty house. Yes we have a dog, but when even she is depressed at the passing of her brother, we were afraid we would lose her too. We’ve watched it happen before and we couldn’t go through it again.

My husband’s family did their best to invite us over and force us to sit down with them and eat. They have a puppy and it was nice to be distracted from our grieving for short periods of time. However there was always that inevitable feeling of having to go home to our house that still held the ghost of our memories. We made the decision to go to the SPCA to take our minds off of our loss. I remember on our drive there, I felt guilty for even going. I didn’t want the idea to blossom to adopt another cat when we had just lost our boy. It didn’t feel right. We went and my husband saw a few. I remember seeing all the black cats and feeling immediate sadness (my boy was black). Automatically my eyes shifted past them. I couldn’t look at them.

As I was passing one of the cages a kitten cried out to me. I stopped and said “hello”. She stood up and walked to the edge of the cage and “chatted” again”. I felt sad still because looking at her hurt but at the same time the pain eased just slightly. When I started to walk away she stuck her paw out and touched my shoulder. My husband told me no. We couldn’t even consider another black cat. It would hurt. It hurt being in a room where the majority were black and they all looked like him (minus the extra toes). We looked at some other kittens but we didn’t bond. Before I left, that black kitty chatted one final time. It was the first time since losing him that I felt some of the pain in my chest shift. But we left her there.

The first day back at work was horrendous. Peaceful as far as work days go. But I didn’t feel like I was ready. I was still hurting and I couldn’t talk to anyone. As it turned out when I did manage to talk to a few people they didn’t get it. Why would they? Most people hate cats and then there are very few that would understand my pain. Just as I was leaving at the end of the day, my phone started going off. My husband’s family had been searching for anyone with kittens to help us try to move on. He seemed really excited that someone on his aunt’s side had found kittens abandoned holed up in a barn. I agreed I would come straight home and we could go see them.

We were only supposed to look at them. We were torn. Here were two skinny tiger kittens that we could barely tell apart. They were covered in matter from the barn and shivering. My heart wasn’t in it when I agreed to take them home for a few days to see how we felt. If not his aunt would find them a new home. But we brought them home and bathed them and fed them. Quite honestly after even a few days we just needed this small distraction. The first couple days were hard as I was still going to work and we weren’t sure of how they would fit in here at home. But then we named them.

Something was still calling me though to go back to the SPCA and spend more time with that black cat. I kept looking her up on the SPCA’s website all week. Every time I felt anxious I would bring up her page. My husband saw me doing this and suggested I put in an application to adopt. If she didn’t like us then we would know it wasn’t meant to be. So I put in my application and scheduled the appointment to go see her. I was so excited and so nervous the day we went. I was so afraid I wouldn’t bond with her.

But as she played with me and showed that she trusted me by laying on me in their visiting room, I knew that we could bond together. And so we followed through with the adoption.

At first my husband was very adamant that he didn’t want more than two cats. Ever. But as our family grew again he realized that they had big shoes to fill. But after bonding with all three, it’s cute to come home to find new toys that he’s bought them laying around the different rooms. He’s making sure I’m on their vet appointments and that we are buying the best food for their growth. We can see our baby boy in all three of them. The oldest (the 8 month kitty from the SPCA), Ada, is crazy like him and likes to play and hide. She also likes things her way. She also looks like him with the exception of a little white patch on her belly. The twins, Wednesday and Ace, are a lot younger at only 9 weeks now. Wednesday is growing so fast because of her love of food. She also is her daddy’s little girl and does everything with him. And then Ace is the little monster. Brave like Goober was. Comes running when he hears his name. We are working on our cuddles and our nose bumps, which were my favorite to receive from my baby boy after a rough day at work.

We never planned on adopting anymore cats. We never thought that we would want to. They came into our life at the right time because they have helped us heal. And they are just as loved as our boy. Every day I thank him silently that he sent us some good ones. And I know that he is watching over us waiting for the day we can be reunited to play again.