'Hood #11: West Los Angeles... Where I Met A Dude and Brought Him Home With Me

Update: here's the handsome fellow now...

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Today I visited the neighborhood of West Los Angeles—or more specifically, the West LA Animal Shelter.

I went there because I've been thinking of getting a cat for a while now, ever since I moved into my condo and I realized I'm not out of town as much as I used to be.  Even though I grew up with cats, I've never had a cat as an adult. I fostered a really sweet cat for a while, and I sort of half-stole a neighbor's cat once, but I never actually had one of my own.

After some soul-searching, I decided that—rather than a kitten—I wanted to give a home to an adult, perhaps middle-aged cat, say, between two and six years old.  Preferably female.  I like petite cats that are multi-colored (calicos and gray and white cats are particular favorites).

I first stopped by the shelter two days ago.  I was helped by a girl who is the spitting image of Anna Kendrick, which made me instantly like her and hope she'd bust out into a rendition of the song Cups from the movie Pitch Perfect.  Anyway, I told her what I was looking for, but added, "More than anything, I want a friendly cat.  I want a cool cat.  Somebody kinda chill, but who likes a good cuddle and takes things in stride."

She said, "Oh, then you need to meet Spencer."  She took me over to a cage where a big, charcoal gray, old, fat cat with vivid green eyes and one clipped ear looked up at me.  Nothing like what I had in mind.

Anyway, the great thing about this shelter is that you get to hang in a room with the cat—so she pulled Spencer out of his cage and we had a lovely little supervised visit, sort of what I suppose used to happen in the times of Jane Austen.  Spencer took a moment to survey the room, but eventually he strolled over to me and plunked his enormous girth in my lap.

A lesser woman would have fallen for his charms right there, but this was my first stop in my cat search—plus I did not want a male, senior (he's eight), 14-pound, one-color cat.  I asked Anna Kendrick to pull out a couple more cats, making it clear I wasn't committing to anything that day.  Then I went on my way. (BTW, she couldn't have been more accommodating and patient.)

Afterwards, I stopped by a PetSmart adoption, where—other than being a bit younger than I'd wanted—every cat was so cute I found it impossible to even focus in on any one.

Truth was, I had Spencer in the back of my mind.

Then this morning, I went back to the shelter to re-visit one of the cats that I'd seen who met all my criteria:  female, five years old, multi-colored, easy going.  Alas, as much as I wanted there to be a connection between us, there just wasn't.

Spencer in his official shelter pic 

As I was leaving, I passed Spencer's cage, took one look at him, and burst out crying.

What can I say?  The heart wants what it wants.

The funny thing was, as I filled out the paperwork and he went through the process of microchipping and the final check, staff kept coming up to me excitedly saying, "Oh, he's such a favorite here!" "A real underdog!" (Undercat?)

As I type this, he's getting the lay of the land in my condo.  Although he's currently more comfortable under the beds—and he's going from bed to bed like Goldilocks—he'll happily emerge anytime I come around to collect a head-scritch and/or a treat.

And, starting tomorrow, we're both on diets.