Well Adjusted - Baby

Someone’s rolled out a metal cart with tray with a tray of cookies in the lobby at Maddie’s, and I have to make my way around a swarm of staffers. Reminds me of every workplace I’ve known. (Wonder if those bankers with the zillion dollar bonuses ever taste the excitement of free toll house cookies?)

It’s otherwise quiet. There are a couple people seriously looking to adopt, but not the folks I encounter. Several parents and kids are making the rounds (local schools having ski week, a new holiday since my youth) and I talk to two different people who are "just looking" at both cats and dogs.

I meet new arrival Wallace, a soft pretty four year old brown tabby with a white bib and paws. His description says he’s well adjusted. Indeed he is – he’s immediately comfortable with me, purring and rubbing around for petting. We have some play time after the cuddling, then he sprawls out next to me, arching his back and purring again. I can tell he’s a guy who will bounce right out of his carrier at his new home.

My buddy Rusty next door is not so relaxed. He still sings out some meows as if in pain when his door is opened. But he does settle down, and he’s sweet from then on. He also wants to play and enjoys a belly rub.

But across the hall, Baby’s got a single agenda item: it’s all about laps for this little girl. Name notwithstanding, Baby is a petite tabby and white 12 year old, and confirmed lap girl. She purrs and cuddles in a kind of possessive way, as befits someone mature and used to getting her way. She’s got the ruffled fur of a senior kitty, though she can leap up to her non-lap sitting area with ease.

Across the hall, Rusty observes us with a baleful expression. Wallace has already curled up for a nap. Baby stays alert, kneading gently. She has fewer years left, but she would be ideal for someone who doesn’t want to make a decade’s long commitment – for instance, someone who wants to travel later on when the economy turns around.

Over in hallway one, another family comes cruising by. Two parents and three energetic kids who race ahead exclaiming at the cats. The oldest one solemnly reads out names and meet-your-match titles. The youngest, a boy maybe three or so watches me interact with Punky. The parents usher the kids back out, but the child turns to me and gives a wave and a firm "good-bye." Nice to see well adjusted children too.