The Perfect Rescue Cat: When Ariya Met Spooki - Wagr Petcare

    The Perfect Rescue Cat: When Ariya Met Spooki

    “Whatever we do, it should be a rescue,” he said through the phone screen, thousands of miles away, playing his video game as I was packing my boxes. My boyfriend and I always talked about how we would eventually have our very own cats when we would finally be together, 2 years on from being long-distance – he was too anxious about newborn baby kittens,

    “Too fragile” he’d say.

    “Should we get an old cat then?”

    “Sure, but we should probably have experience with old cats first, I think”

    And thus, we would go back and forth, slowly forging the idea of a perfect cat. Black, short fur may be, still a kitten but older than a newborn, quirky, loves cuddling, and so on.

    “You should pick his name,” I said. He was good with names.

    “Hm. Maybe something video game related would be fun” as he gazed at his laptop screen, still enthralled in his game.

    “How about Spectre?” I said. It was a hero in the game, a ghost-like entity that haunted others. It was one of his favourites and I really liked it as well.

    “Hah! I like that. Suits a black cat, but the name is not very cat-like" he thought for a second before his eyes lit up and he blurted out “Spooky! But with an ‘I’, so Spooki I guess”

    We were in our own worlds, of course – dreaming, as we would, despite the last few years. We were going to get each other’s cat when we moved in; for him a black cat and for me a tortoise-shell cat. When you are apart, you tend to talk about distant futures. It was the little things like this that help you stay grounded. “We are allowed to dream, you know?” he’d say. Although he was the first one to always be realistic, funnily enough.

    I knew the reality. I rescued cats before, I took care of strays – things are never that simple. I always wanted to adopt a cat, but the circumstances always made it difficult – not allowed by my parents, moving to hostels, moving to places with dogs, and so on. Cats, essentially, come to you unannounced and make a home of you themselves. Something like finding the ‘perfect’ cat, and especially at the perfect time, is simply too convenient – but he always felt it would come.

    I was lucky enough to have found a great place to move into through his friends, who happened to also have two cats of their own. It was a new beginning, another step closer, perhaps, to a better life. What I would have never guessed, though, was just how lucky.

    It hadn’t even been a day, but I casually brought up the conversation I had with him to my roommates. Out of curiosity, they asked the cat boarding place they had adopted their second cat from if they had something of the sort – a black kitten who needs a home.

    It only took half an hour to hear back. About a 4-month-old kitten, black. He was rescued from a place where they ritualistically eat black kittens, then fostered from when he was a few weeks old. They sent pictures of a cute, sweet kitten, with piercing yellow-orange eyes, some of him being cuddled up, others of him inside laundry baskets.

    He was also named Spooky. 

    You can call it fate or providence, but there was no question about it, he was coming home to me. I scrambled to get more details – is he vaccinated, does he have any special needs, his history, what I need to buy for him – but all that was trivial in comparison to the torrent of emotions I was feeling because I knew, this cat belonged with us.

    I told him almost immediately. He was stunned. He is always practically minded first, so he asked me several things and if this was the right decision, if we were ready, "you just moved in, this could be a lot for you" and so on.

    After several minutes of this, I could tell that his initial wariness was being replaced by emotion.

    “Are you sure about this?” he said. I could tell he wanted this just as much as me, but he really wanted to be sure, for us and Spooky, soon-to-be Spooki.

    “Yes. I believe I’m ready.” I knew it in my heart.

    Things went well. Two weeks passed, and he was brought to the boarding place within the first week, and I took him home after that.

    As usual on a video call, we talked about our little things, though now with a scurrying little black fur of energy, chasing after a measuring tape I dangled about. He was staring pensively.

    “I guess I should look for a tortie now?”

    Allowed to dream, indeed.

    Pet parent Ariya with Spooki

    In this season of giving, we are highlighting stories of real supaw-heroes, rescuing and helping our furry companions. If you have a similar story to share, do let us know through our Instagram page @mywagr.

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