Meet Snoopy and PJ.

I stopped by the outlet mall near the airport on my way home from work. I needed to go bra shopping and in my opinion, there's no better place to go bra shopping than the Hanes/Bali/something outlet. I've been wearing the same style of bra for as long as I can remember. You can buy it at Macy's for $30 each, or you can go to the outlet where they are normally $20 each except today. They were 3 for $14 each. 'Nuff said, am I right ladies?

Here I am wandering the deserted corridors of the Prime Outles at Morrisville, conveniently locate in the flight path of the RDU International Airport, when I spy AniMall. I was afraid it was a pet store. I am happy to report I was wrong. Best Friends Pet Adoption has rented the space to show off adoptable critters, sell toys and solicit donations. Today, there were about 5 cats chillin' out, looking cute. Being the sucker I am, I went in to say hi. Before I go on, let me give you a little history.

When I was 23 and completely broke, I brought home two 5 week old kittens, Rocky and Truman. They were the only two kittens in the litter of a coworker and could fit in the palm of one hand. Their parents were brother and sister and they were born in a trailer park and I swear I am not making that up. The coworker, Lisa, I think, and her husband lived in the trailer park. She was a server in the restaurant where I worked. She and her husband had a two week honeymoon in Egypt. Lisa got her nails done every couple weeks. They did not have enough money, or so she claimed, to get her cats fixed. I knew that if she kept Rocky and Truman, they wouldn't get them fixed either. One thing I can do well is sweet talk someone into doing something they might not want to do and in the end, have them totally excited about it. I think I missed my calling for used car sales. Not to worry, I use my powers for good. I promise. Even though I was a stupid and irresponsible 23, I talked Lisa into giving me the kittens. I knew I could give them a better home. And that I did.

When Rocky and Truman were six, about to turn 7, I was living in Durham. The day started like any other, as they say. I was in the bathroom getting ready for work, Rocky was rolling around on the floor rubbing on my feet like she usually did. I went to work and got home about an hour later than normal. When I got home, I found Rocky on the living room floor, in shock. She was ice cold, panting and very floppy. My roommate came home about 15 minutes later and we sped off to the emergency vet. At midnight that night, I had to make the decision to put her to sleep. It was determined that she passed a blood clot to her lungs as a result of complications of a heart murmer. She couldn't see. All of her fluid counts were the opposite of what they should have been. She wasn't going to get better anytime soon, if ever. She wasn't going to be able to come home anytime soon, if ever again. The vet suggested it was the right thing to do.

Almost two years ago, Truman had his teeth cleaned. He had to have a couple teeth pulled. The one on the bottom healed okay, but the one on top was not healing at all. He had another surgery to fix the hole in his mouth, which turned out to be in vain. He had another couple teeth pulled on the top, but it still wasn't healing. One night while eating crunchy food pellets, he snapped his big fang tooth in half. Leah and Ian rushed a hysterical me and a bloody Truman to another emergency vet. They tried to tell me it would be about $2500 to $5000 to get to the bottom of it. They said it could be bad teeth, something else, or cancer. I took him home and made him comfortable and took him in to see his regular vet in the morning. They gave him an emergency surgery that afternoon after an EKG that diagnosed a small heart murmer. The vet removed the cracked fang and gave me a referral for the NCSU Vet School. We received the diagnosis of squamous cell carcinoma, a very common feline cancer with a very grim prognosis. This had been going on for about 6 months at this point and Truman had had 4 surgeries after the initial teeth cleaning. I decided that it was time to bring him home and make him comfortable. He had had enough poking and prodding for a lifetime. I was told he would have a few more weeks. He hung on for about a month after that. I decided it was time to let him go when I realized he has lost his sight.

Recently, I have begun to think about adopting another cat or two. Tonight I met Snoopy and PJ. They are 10 year old brothers currently in foster care, doing their second tour of duty in AniMall. They are super-sweet and lovey. I spent much time talking to and scratching them. I like them a lot. I think they like me too. The drawbacks? Well, they are almost 10. This means illness and medical bills loom on the horizon. I have always had a stronger allergic reaction to orange cats than to others, but that's why the good lord invented Zyrtec, right? Oh, and did I mention these boys are HUGE? As in almost 20 pounds each huge? Yup. Am I ready to bring home 40 pounds of cat? Is anyone?

I have some thinking to do, about finances, allergies, emotions. I think the time is right. To be honest, there's something about Snoopy that reminds me of Truman, in a good way. Maybe the Monkey Man is trying to tell me something.

I'm setting up a blog poll. To adopt or not to adopt, that is the question.