Finnegan is 2 years old, front declawed, super duper playful, and he's a stunningly pretty cat. We found him at the OSPCA last week. Since we came home from March Break I have been in the habit of dropping in weekly to check out the new clientele, and when I found him, I thought he might be The One.
Luckily, Mallory thought so too. We have been toying with the idea of MAYBE getting two cats so that Mallory and Liam can each "have one" and they can be playmates. Hopefully they take out their excess energy on each other and not on us or our property.
Mallory was smitten with this cat just as much as I was, and declared that he was the one for her, so we went back with Liam after we picked him up from school, and Liam bought into him as well (although he still wants to get "his" cat, which he has decided will be a gray tabby kitten with green eyes - luckily it's spring and the kitten season is nearly upon us, and I'm sure we'll have our pick of gray tabbies one day soon.)
Anyway, in the back of my mind I'm thinking, something must be wrong with this cat. He's simply lovely and someone has declawed him so they have put money into him. Why is he back at the shelter?
The shelter staff told us that his original owners lived in an old Victorian house, and that Finnegan found his way inside one of the walls, where he got stuck. They had to take the wall down to rescue him and decided not to risk incurring an expense like that again.
So I am swayed by this cat's prettiness and I figure, we don't live in an old Victorian, we should be fine. The cat comes home with us. We have him for about two hours, and then he's missing, and Chad, who is sitting in the finished part of the basement, can hear something overhead. He comes upstairs to ask if we have been jumping around in the dining room over his head. Nope - haven't been near it. We put two and two together. The cat has gotten into the ceiling.
This was made possible by the fact that part of the basement is finished and part isn't, and the cat climbed up on some Rubbermaid bins in the unfinished part and got up to where the ceiling drywall begins.
The good news is, after having a quick look around, he came right back out again, and as far as I know he hasn't felt the need to check it out again since. Which is a good thing, because for about thirty seconds I had this total feeling of moronic stupidity in my belly, like - they WARNED me that this was going to happen. Why did I have to go falling in love with this particular damn cat??
(If you can't tell - I am a little jaded by my last experience. I have zero confidence in my ability to pick out a decent cat.)
The good news is, the OSPCA waived the adoption fee for us, on account of our experience with Pip. And Finnegan really and truly does seem like a lovely cat so far. He poops where he's supposed to, he stays off the counters, and he is mostly pretty quiet. All good traits in a cat. Also, he seems to like Mallory more than he likes the rest of us. She plays with him a lot and he sleeps in her bed with her (until I boot him out - we've been confining him at night - that would be an especially bad time to have a cat stuck in the ceiling again). So I am glad that he is "hers" (though secretly I do long for a little lap time with him; I'm sure it will come.)
Wish us luck. I hope we are in this for the long haul.
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