Page 25 of Love at First Ink

By the time she made it to the end of the line, it had started to move, and people were heading inside. Excited children with their parents spoke animatedly about the pet they would soon adopt and whose bed they would sleep in tonight. A few older women stood in a cluster, all discussing if they should get a cat or kitten. From the sounds of it, the discussion was getting heated.

To say that Marisol felt out of place was an understatement.

She slipped in between the empty spaces of people, making her way inside. The room was small but open. Two doors on opposite sides of the room led to two different areas. One for dogs and the other was marked cats. The boisterous barks from the dogs made her happy she didn’t need to go through that way to get to the cats. Already she was overstimulated and overwhelmed and didn’t want to add anything more to the mix.

Most of the crowd seemed to be going left toward the dogs, which left the right wide open for her to sneak through. The sounds were muffled the moment she stepped through the door into a white room filled with plexiglass cages. Soft purrs and meows followed her the further she walked into the room. Most people stayed toward the front where all the small kittens were, which left the back completely open for her perusal.

Marisol had never seen so many cats in her life, in all different colors and various sizes. She saw a gray cat with white whiskers. According to the sign on his cage, his name was Mr. Whiskers. Mr. Whiskers had a more extensive hair routine than her, judging by how shiny and luscious his coat was.

She didn’t stop at Mr. Whiskers. There were tons of other cats to see, and Marisol took them all in. The same group of older women—apparently having decided upon an older cat—crowded some of the cages in the back. She maneuvered past them, toward the end of the room.

The cages back here were mostly empty, with only the occasional sleeping cat. Eventually, she didn’t come upon any more, but something possessed her to make her way to the end, just to say she went through it all. Marisol was about to return to the entrance when something caught her attention.

Easily mistaken for a white cloth or small blanket, a short-haired white cat peeked its head up. Ocean-blue eyes stared back, assessing her. There was no name on the cage or anything that marked the cat as available. Feeling drawn to the lonely cat, Marisol took a step closer. The fur on the cat’s back stood up on end, making her pause.

Tentatively, Marisol reached out, placing her hand at the small opening in the plexiglass. At first, the white cat did nothing but hiss. She should have pulled back and left. Therewere hundreds of other cats that were far friendlier, but none of them intrigued her quite like this one. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe because this cat was alone, away from everyone else. It wasn’t getting any attention and had to defend itself because no one else was around to do it for them.

That cat reminded Marisol a lot of her.

It was as if the cat came to that realization at the same time. Slowly and cautiously, it got up and approached Marisol. She didn’t move, keeping her hand where it was to let the cat decide. Soft fur soon brushed her fingers as the animal moved closer to the glass. Then a new sound appeared. Not hissing but soft, low purring.

Marisol looked around, but she didn’t see any volunteers. No one was paying her any mind at all. She hesitated only slightly before reaching for the lock and unlatching it. The door opened, and blue eyes stared back at her as if to say,well, what now?

“You better not bite,” Marisol muttered and reached for the cat. She winced once she had her hands around the animal, waiting for it to attack her, but it never did.

“Okay, this is good. We’re good,” she murmured and pulled the cat to her chest, gently rubbing its little head. The soft purrs only got louder. “Well, hello there. This isn’t so bad, right?” she asked, talking to herself. The cat closed its eyes and lay against her.

“Wow, that’s impressive,” a female voice said from behind Marisol.

Marisol jumped at the sudden noise. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. She felt like a little kid who was just caught doing something wrong.

The woman in front of her was roughly her age, with short-cropped black hair that contrasted starkly with her paleskin. It should have looked off-putting, but it worked on her, giving her a gothic vibe.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see anyone over here and?—”

The woman waved her words away, showing off the numerous gold rings adorning her fingers. “Oh, don’t apologize. We encourage guests to play with and pet the animals to make sure you’re a good fit. I’m just surprised because she has not let a single person touch her since she arrived.”

Ah, so the cat was a girl.

“Mostly she stays in the back of her cage and hisses at any of the volunteers who try to help her,” the woman explained. “Which is why we have her back here all alone. We tried moving her up to the front, but she would fight anyone who tried to touch her. We didn’t want any potential families getting bitten or scratched either.”

“What happened to her?” Marisol asked. There was a reason this cat acted out. It wasn’t a natural response, which told her she hadn’t had the easiest upbringing.

“Sadly, we don’t know much about her,” the woman said. “We got her about a month ago. She was left at our entrance in a small makeshift cage. She was really dirty and lethargic, so we managed to get her cleaned up and fed, but since then, we haven’t been able to approach her.”

“Did she come with a name?”

The woman shook her head. “No, unfortunately. We’ve been calling her Snowball though.”

Snowball. She liked that. More surprisingly, she liked the cat. Damn Lola.

“What is the process of adopting?” Marisol asked.

As if understanding her, Snowball began to purr louder. She leaned forward and licked Marisol’s hand with her scratchy tongue. It was gross, but also kind of cute.

“There’s some paperwork to fill out and a quick pet safety lesson,” she said.

Marisol looked down at Snowball, who was content in her arms. Was she really going to do this? She thought about leaving Snowball behind, and the thought was physically painful. She couldn’t leave this cat alone, always on the defense every time someone walked by. That was no life at all.

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