Svelte, long-legged and beautiful, Kittie has the most amazing dark, sapphire blue eyes I’ve ever seen on a Siamese. Coddled, pretty much from the moment she was born, she was destined for a life of luxury.
Searching over a year for a kitten, I drove 18 hours to buy her from a breeder. She was my perfect Seal Point baby–so small, my husband refused to touch her. Afraid he’d crush her, Kittie and I slept in a separate bed for two weeks, during her adjustment phase.
I fed her Wellness and bought her expensive toys. Hers was the master bedroom in our townhouse, a retreat for pulling all-nighters with her toys. Friends thought us crazy for giving our cat the largest room in the house. Looking back, I’m ashamed to admit that she lived better than some humans.
But when Kittie became lonely, we noticed. She needed companionship of the furry kind. Our Veterinarian suggested adoption, of which we had zero experience. A non-purebred, street cat? I was anxious, but kept an open mind.
Lillie was feral, living under a porch; her mother hadn’t been seen for days before her rescue.
From first glance, she was ugly, having inherited nothing Siamese except the typical coloring. Whitish-blue in appearance and veiny, you could tell something about her eyes was “off.” Her legs and tail were out of proportion to her tiny body.
Though fostered for a short time, Lillie was socially awkward. She needed love. She needed me.
We couldn’t touch her from the day we brought her home and picking her up meant suffering deep scratches. At six weeks old, Lillie had massive claws! Her paw-to-body ratio was similar to that of a Golden Retriever puppy.
Kittie beat the crap out of her daily, but the tables quickly turned. Lillie grew into those Golden Retriever-sized paws; her size now an advantage over Kittie’s attacks. The Vet said by the time she turns one, she could top off near eleven pounds, while Kittie has plateaued around six.
Almost eight months old, Lillie can’t jump much higher than two feet. Her legs remain short and stubby, but her tail lengthened considerably. Her eyes, still whitish blue, are mostly normal. Only sometimes, they point in different directions, like a feline Igor. Due to her Wellness diet, her once sparse fur is thicker and softer than Kittie’s. My ugly duckling became a huge swan.
To be honest, finding Lillie took time. Most of the adoptable Siamese in my area had issues. With my own health problems, a needy cat wasn’t in the cards. The extent of Lillie’s pre-adoption trauma is unknown, but her lack of affection sometimes saddens me. Largely anti-social, any sudden noises throw her into cartoon-like panic attacks. We still encounter problems when trying to pet or hold her and she requires large amounts of patience (and food!). I’m scared how she will handle kids, when they arrive. But we love her and wouldn’t change a single thing.
At the end of the day, the adoption process was positive and cost effective, at one-third that of a breeder. Lillie’s spaying, vaccinations and micro-chipping were also included in the fee, contrary to Kittie’s $220 surgery and $60 microchip. I bought Lillie a fighting chance at life, something she wasn’t born with, and now, my designer cat and my rescue cat are inseparable besties!
