Abbey's Road: New feline family member wins over dubious 'cat lady'

For the record, I was always fine with being a single-cat household — or even a no-cat household.

After all, we didn’t go looking for a pet on that fateful day 12 years ago. Sherlock — so named because of the Holmes anthology I was reading at the time — emerged from the bushes, needy and mewing, as we sat on the front porch one hot spring afternoon.

We caved. He was very persistent, and we were parents of a 1-year-old with an affinity for cute, fuzzy things.

That was clearly our first mistake.

The addition of Sherlock made our family of three into a family of four, and we — how do I put a nice spin on this? — have learned many lessons since that time.

Namely, that just because an animal is cute and friendly when it’s young doesn’t mean it will remain that way for the rest of its life, especially if you ignorantly but inhumanely remove its front claws and then it ends up needing expensive food for the rest of its life. (Are these things connected? I don’t believe in karma, but this is probably about as close as it gets.)

Abbey's Road: A cat-astrophic TV pitch

As time went on, Sherlock went from a cute tuxedo kitten to a middle-aged curmudgeon with aches, pains and preferences — not unlike many of us, I suppose.

Rather than being cuddly, he began exhibiting sociopathic tendencies. He would wait for a window of opportunity to run out the door, then hide behind a bush and hiss at us. But he would faithfully hop into bed every night and nuzzle up next to Mr. Roy as if he were a perfect angel.

Eventually, we all just hit a stride — one that involved Sherlock being mostly a decorative item in the house (“Look but don’t touch”) that required expensive maintenance and an occasional, brief display of affection.

Two kids later, it didn’t take long for the rabble to begin demanding a pet that was affectionate.

They tried for a dog, but I became so adept at refusing that eventually their hopes were dashed. Of course, Sherlock would eat and/or terrorize any animal smaller than himself, eliminating rodents, birds and Any Remotely Acceptable Reptiles from the equation.

So that basically left us with one option: Another cat.

I would describe myself as completely ambivalent in this matter. A 12-year-old cat in generally good health stands a chance of hanging around at least another handful of years; would it be wise to introduce a friend into the mix to soften the blow when the inevitable happens? Perhaps. Would it be worth the extra money, stress and fur shed on the velvet armchair?

And here I will say: Time will tell.

Because at some point, Mr. Roy began perusing our humane society’s Facebook page for pictures of new cats up for adoption.

And then, he decided to scroll through those photos with three girls who very much had their hearts set on having a new pet.

And then, one Saturday, he left to “go get a haircut” and came back with a 2-year-old cat with a white body, gray tail and random gray “smudges” along his hind legs and head. The humane society called him “Smudge.” We call him Watson.

And thus, our family is complete. Again.

Watson is, indeed, a cuddly fellow. He has little regard for personal space or the fact that his claws — which we will not be removing, thank you for your concern — penetrate human flesh, and has a strange habit of licking people’s earlobes as a way of showing affection.

Abbey's Road: Probing the mysteries of felinedom

Sherlock is yet unsure of how he feels about having his newcomer around the house. They have hit a stride and found the ability to co-exist, laying across the room from one another or loosely guarding the front door in case of an imposter.

I think having a younger counterpart around has caused Sherlock to not take life so seriously. When it’s 9 p.m. and Watson has decided to tear around the house after an invisible enemy, Sherlock watches calmly from his perch on the sofa, not entirely disapproving but maybe reliving his kitten days — before the special urinary tract cat food and when he still had front claws.

In any case, we are now a two-cat household. I never would have pegged myself for a cat lady, but here we are. Embracing our feline side and loving life as a family of seven.

Abbey Roy is a mom of three girls who make every day an adventure. She writes to maintain her sanity. You can probably reach her at amroy@nncogannett.com, but responses are structured around bedtimes and weekends.

This article originally appeared on Newark Advocate: Abbey's Road: Roy family adopts second pet cat