Love vs. Stereotype
ONE CAT BIT THE ELECTRICAL CORD, AND I FOUND THE CAT IN AGONY WITH THE CORD IN ITS MOUTH. I felt like a hero after saving my pet, but the cat never appreciated the sacrifice.
My second cat fell from the top of the door on a sharp metal surface and broke its back. The third one jumped from the fifth floor balcony onto the ground and died while cats supposed to land on all four. I stopped trying, thinking that it was not for me to have a cat.
Three years ago I stopped at one of the pet stores here in Kansas City to buy food for my fish and looked at the little puppies that cuddled or played in their cages.
"How cute!"–I couldn't take my eyes off those clumsy little dogs.
I looked inside another cage with the sign "SOLD" and saw a tiny kitten. My son was begging me to get a cat for a long time, but I had to be firm–no more victims in my house. This time a strange feeling arose in my heart while I was looking at the kitten and especially after I held that weightless creature in my hands: I knew it was OUR cat. A person who wanted to buy the kitten didn't come. The only problem with the pet was the color–it was a black cat! I knew about the bad luck to even see one, but I had already begun falling in love with that blue-eyed trustful and cute kitten.
"This is the time to finally get rid of my prejudice and fear." I decided bravely. I got even happier noticing the funny little white hair–tufts sticking out behind the cat's ears.
"It's not black, it's not black." I recited these words in my car driving home. But deep in my mind I still doubted trying to find a reason to take the cat back.
"What if my son has an allergy to cats? What if the cat brings us misfortune?"
We called our kitten "Lapa"–Paw in Russian. Our black cat had a unique way to make faces: she would stick her red tongue out between the teeth to amuse everybody. No one had ever seen a cat acting like a stubborn child.
My son and I were growing in love for this new member of our family. Our love was tested for the first time when the cute white hair fell out, and our unusual cat turned into a very ordinary black cat–no white color at all. I tried really hard to find at least one microscopic white spot, but failed. I even thought about bleaching a few spots to cheat nature, but I had already begun to learn that the color didn't matter. Love did...
Another test was behind the corner. Our kitten developed cancer–that was the reason for our cat to stick out her funny little tongue. Lapa's mouth was getting more and more deformed and looked ugly, and the veterinarian suggested putting the cat to sleep. I didn't know I could suffer the inevitable loss so badly. I couldn't get it or explain it: it was just an ordinary black cat, but I wouldn't give up our family member.
When I brought Lapa home after the surgery she looked so pitiful with the only tooth in her mouth sticking out, but we loved her even more. She was there with us alive, she would live.
Looking back, I thank my cat for the lesson–color doesn't matter, fear of prejudice doesn't matter and even the most dreadful disease doesn't matter if you love.
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