I keep the window to my bedroom open most of the time. Especially in the summer, it’s been a necessity to keep fresh air circulating. The best breezes come at night, when the air is cooler and the dust of the day has settled. Our apartment sits on a raised first floor, so we’re close to street level, but also high enough that even the most determined and dextrous of intruders would have a pretty tough time gaining entrance through our windows. Plus, there’s the added security of iron bars, so uninvited visitors are pretty unexpected.
Such was the case, at least, until I awoke one morning to find a cat curled up in the armchair next to my bed. Her presence startled me so much that I accidentally scared her out. But how had she even gotten in? Surely my window was too high up even for cats to jump the distance? As she escaped, I watched her. She weaved her little self through the iron bars and leapt down onto a tiny ledge beside my window that was just wide enough for a cat to use as a stepping stone. This, apparently, was her method of entry. I spent a moment at the window watching her trot away, admiring her chutzpah before resuming my day and assuming I would never see her again.
A few nights later, though, while Skyping with my mother and sister, I heard a small commotion outside and turned to see the same cat coming through my window. I hurried to maneuver my computer screen so my family could see her, but my sudden movement caused her to leave as quickly as she had come. I went to sleep shortly after and woke up the next morning to find her sleeping on the edge of my bed, spread out like she owned the place.
I moved slowly, not wanting to scare her away again. She woke up and stretched, then meowed and started following me around while I got ready for work. I pet her, and found some meat to give her. I sat down at my computer to check email, and as soon as I hit the chair she was in my lap. I left her in my room with the window open, and she was, as I expected, gone when I returned home that afternoon.
When it became dark, though, I saw her little face peeking in under the curtain. She meowed, waltzed in, and collapsed into a purring lump at my feet. She stayed with me all night and all the next morning, a practice that continued for over a week before I realized that she was here to stay.
So, I suppose the news is that I’ve been adopted. Keeping a cat is the last thing I ever expected to happen to me while abroad, but here we are.
Her name is Roo, and she is pretty much the cutest, most cuddly thing ever. She’s gotten the full vet treatment, and right now she’s recovering from a recent spay surgery, but she’s still definitely up and at ’em. My roommate is taking care of her for me while I’m on holiday, and while it’s nice to be away, I do miss her a little bit already!
I plan on taking her back with me when I return to the States. The process seems like much less of a headache than I expected, but there are a lot of I’s to dot and T’s to cross. Worrying about that is for another time, though.
Right now I’m on Day 2 of my holiday, and enjoying it very much! In fact, I’m posting this from the Wi-Fi on my travel bus, which is probably the nicest vehicle I’ve ever been in. Hopefully I’ll be able to make some more posts from the road. In the meantime, all my love!