I adopted a cat to give it hope, it gave it to me in return
I never thought I would be so anxious about a cat. The last few days, coming in and out of the veterinarian office has been a bit taxing. Now, Nadya is home, and I know she’s happy to be here.
When I adopted Nadya from the humane society in Silver City, she was about a year old. I first saw her in a room full of other cats that had been waiting to be taken in by a loving family, or maybe just a single guy in his thirties, for months. The pandemic was just in its infancy and I read in the newspaper that dog adoptions had spiked.
People were feeling in need of some extra company. I hadn’t owned a pet since I was in high school, but there was always some kind of animal around the house, from what I remember. From dogs named Princess and Sparky to cats of all sizes and colors, and even a parakeet, there has always been a love for furry little guys in the Villarreal residence.
Working from home for the first couple of weeks, I too felt like I could pick up a new friend, so I made my way to the humane society and asked for the cat room. The helpful volunteer walked me to the back and as soon as I opened the door the meowing began. I inquired about the recent uptick in adoptions and was informed that the good news was mainly for dog lovers.
