I’m way behind in my blogging.
Last weekend we went to Ellensburg to pick up Stella from our friend Barbara. Kevin and I first met her when she was a wee little kitten (back in August) and he fell in love. She was the runt of her litter and such a sweetheart. He carried her around for our entire visit. Unfortunately, though, she already had a home and it wasn’t ours.
A few weeks later we found out that Stella could be ours. The home that she was going to had a different request, so Barbara offered her to us. We were excited, and a little nervous since we had planned on getting two boy kittens. Neither of us had ever really bonded with a girl kitty in the same way we had bonded with our boys. But, we figured since he’d fallen so in love with her initially, it was meant to be.
So we talked about her, and Kevin suggested that we name her Olivia. I love the name, so last Sunday we went to pick up Olivia. As we’re sitting in the living room of Barbara’s house, I’m holding the kitten, thinking, I don’t really want to name her Olivia. I think she is more of a Stella.
We have our visit, pick some plums, squash, carrots, and all sorts of other amazing things that Barbara has in her garden for us, get in the car, and hit the road. We are in the car for about ten minutes when Kevin says to me:
“I bet you don’t want to name her Olivia. I bet you want to name her something like Stella.”
To which I respond with a series of half words, gasps, squeaks and other forms of startled exclamation as I try not to veer the car off the road.
“How in the world? Did I say that??? HOW DID YOU KNOW???”
He never did answer me. And I think I asked him about every five minutes for the entire drive home.
So Stella it is. And when we call her, we say “STELLA!!! STEL-LA!!!!”
And she sits on my lap, and my desk, and cuddles and purrs, and lets the baby pick her up. She is a sweetie. I really, really adore her. We all agree that our home feels better with a kitten in it. It just hasn’t been the same without our meows!
(and to those of you who ask why we didn’t rescue a kitten since there are so many that need homes – we would have, but my husband is allergic. And there are not many Siberian kittens to be rescued. Kevin was sweet enough to put up with Oliver for seven years because we were a package deal, but new cats have to be hypoallergenic).