Grif the Cat

About a year and one month ago, I lost my calico kitten Aya to feline leukemia. I still remember her very fondly to this day, but there's another reason to celebrate this time.

A week after her passing, my Dad came home and asked me to come with him to Battle Creek. I had stayed home from school one extra day, as Aya had passed during the Christmas break.
I went with him, unable to stand being in the house much longer. I had already cleaned and disinfected my entire room along with throwing out all things she had used or played with.

At first I thought we were just going grocery shopping. It was about that time of the month and I figured walking around would help.
But instead of taking the road to Meijer's, he turned the vehicle onto a road I had never seen.
With interest peaked, I sat up in my seat. I kept looking down the road and at the sides, wondering where we were going.

And finally we pulled into the driveway of the local animal shelter.
At first I thought it was some sort of sick joke, but that worry was washed away when we walked in.
I immediately went to the designated cat room, unable to contain my excitement. I love dogs, but I have always felt more at ease with cats.

I had never seen so many cats before in one room. They covered the floor and countless baskets, while others clung to various cat towers and scratching posts.
But I was more interested in the kittens. Perhaps I would have be just as happy with an adult cat as I was with a kitten, but I wanted to interact with the kittens before I touched the older cats.

The kittens had their own area, secluded from the adults. The volunteer had said it was to keep the kittens from contracting adult diseases.
Luckily there was only four in there. So I entered the small pen and crouched down, letting the, come to me.

The first kitten to greet me was an enthusiastic pale calico. She immediately crawled up my coat to my shoulder and proceded to rub against my cheek.
There was a small white one who would shy away whenever I moved. And a brindle colored kitten who was content to keep sitting in a small box.
But then there was a small orange tiger, cautiously sniffing at my shoe and batting at the rubber sides.

I'm not sure why, but I found him the most interesting. So I picked him up and looked at him. He only blinked at me and licked his nose.
Maybe the fact that I had never owned a male or orange colored cat was what drew me. Or maybe I was tired of my calico cats getting sick and dying.
Whatever the case, I looked up at my dad and said I wanted the little orange furball.

So we went to the volunteer, who drew up the necessary paperwork and registration. He'd already had his shots and was fixed, and the adoption fee was only $100. I was more than eager to take him home right away, but the volunteer said we had to wait for a reason I can't remember.
So it was planned that my mom would come home and pick me up to go and pick up 'Nemo' as he was dubbed at the time.
When asked if I wanted to change his name, I decided to name him 'Grif'. It might have been silly to name him after one of my favorite Red vs Blue characters, but it was too perfect. They were both orange and quite lazy.

So that night I came home with him, a tiny three month old kitten who would become my animal best friend. He cuddles with me at any available moment, hogs the middle of the bed, and always demands attention. He's such an affectionate cat, and it makes me glad that I picked him.