Roxanne continued to resurface Saturday, and we even introduced her to Oliver. She was affectionate and clearly smitten with our area. She wore a collar and a bell, but had no tags. Having no cats around the house since our previous neighbors moved, I was very surprised to her visit.
Sunday morning came and with it, Roxanne on the porch. I walked up and down the street with her at my feet, like the Pied Piper, but couldn't come up with a home for her. I even tweeted her photo hoping someone would claim her. I feared taking her to the pound would mean a death sentence due to her non-kitty age.
Ultimately, I wanted to keep her. But, being an outdoor cat, I wasn't sure how this would work out with Oliver who only comes outside (sadly) on a leash for his Vitamin D. Blake and Priscilla weren't in the market, especially with him being allergic.
Coincidentally, the previous owners to Blake and Priscilla's house dropped by the same day and Julie, a self-proclaimed cat woman, said she would take her in. Naturally, Roxanne was no where to be found at that time, but a few hours later, resurfaced.
I called Julie to see how certain she was about taking on a new cat in their new house and she obliged. Getting Roxanne into the carrier proved to be a feat, and anyone who has ever driven with a cat in tow knows that watching paint dry is a better activity, but once we arrived at the new home, Roxanne was welcome with open arms and pronounced male.
It's comforting to know that this cat went to a good home. I admittedly am more sympathetic to animals than people (harsh, but true) since they have a genuine dependency on humans, but ultimately am a fan of any happy ending, and of course, The Police's hit that's been on repeat mentally all weekend.
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