The woman sitting in the window seat asked, "Why can't you find a cat in Sacramento?" We sat in the second row on a 70-minute flight yesterday to San Diego. She was going to visit her daughter in La Jolla, and I was heading for a sidewalk outside of baggage claim to stand in the bright sun for a few minutes before getting on another Southwest flight back home.
It was an enjoyable flight. No cell phones. No computers. Just 80 minutes of sitting quietly and not talking about Sacramento short sales. Oh, wait. I think I probably violated that last little bit.
I can't find a cat in Sacramento because I had set my heart on a flame-point male ragdoll. And I found that kitten in San Diego. I brought a carrier for him, and Southwest let me hand carry him on-board. He was very quiet and didn't mew at all during the flight. I figured between my other two cats, Pia -- the little one who used to be a breeding cat -- would be the one to naturally latch on to Jackson and nurture him. I worried that Pica, the cat who once spent a terrified night in the yard by mistake, would hate him. (In fact, when my husband found Pica in the yard, Pica bit his hand and caused it to swell up like a baseball glove.)
Turns out it's the other way around, though. Pica is excited and overjoyed to have a new baby brother in the house. Pia hates his guts. Hisses at him. Pia would kick his ass if I let her. But they don't get to be together yet. All three of them need time to adjust.
My husband is not allowed to play with Jackson, either. I know that sounds sort of cruel but otherwise Jackson would bond with him and not with me. He's only 8 weeks. He is so precious and tiny. Last night, as we were getting ready for bed it dawned on me that we did not have the right kind of cat litter. It's not the kind that Jackson is used to. So, my husband put on his jacket and went out to Target to buy clumping Tidy Cat. This is why I love the guy. My husband, I'm talking about.
All successful real estate agents have a support system in place. Can't name one who doesn't. I could not do what I do without my husband's assistance and support. He is one helluva a guy, and I am one very lucky Sacramento short sale agent.
Photos: Elizabeth Weintraub, BlackBerry Bold Camera below, Nikon above