I let my eyes wonder to the other cats, young and old, that occupied the other kennels in the cat room. There were the 2 kittens named Boris and Olaf who licked their paws and blinked their eyes at me, unsure of what my intentions were for them. Then there was the black and white girl name Misty, content to sleep away my visit in her donated knit blanket. The stripped male Tiger, Minnie, Frank and assorted other cats and kittens sitting in their cages staring at me or sleeping the day away. This orange cat was different, he noticed me and wouldn t take his eyes off me, his green eyes followed me to every cage that I visited, eyeing up every cat that I touched.
Money can t buy friendship, or so they say.
He seemed to belong on the great plains of Africa stalking Impala with a pride of lions, not trapped in a cage eyeing visitors who dare not notice Him. But, if I couldn t give Him Africa I could at least give him an area larger then a cage to claim as his own and twenty-seven dollars could do just that. I forked over the money at the counter in the main entrance to the shelter without a seconds thought and quickly shuffled my new found friend into my car. Down the highway and into the city I drove, slowly, careful not to upset my companion who occupied the passenger seat in a sturdy cardboard carrier and finally reached my apartment. Opening his box in the kitchen he peaked out at his new surroundings, sniffing the air, then looking at me as if he was unsure whether he had made the right decision in having me take him home.