her name is allie...

but I just call her "little cat."
I wish I could upload the picture of her on my new digital camera (thanks, Leah and Chad) so that you all could appreciate her cuteness.
I'm not really a cat fan: I've always lived in a house with dogs. She just looked so cold there in the snow on our porch. She shivered and meowed, and I couldn't leave her out there all night. To be honest, I thought she belonged to the guy who lives in the downstairs apartment. Sure enough, after I'd taken care of her for a couple of days, he came up and claimed her. Well, he said she belonged to him but that he didn't want her. Twelve hour days at work and a bigger bossier cat were his reasons. Did I want her? I looked over at her, hiding under the table from him, and I just couldn't give her back.
But now I'm searching for a home for the little cat. She's really a good girl. She goes potty in the litter box only. She doesn't chew things up or break things. She's soft and cuddly and friendly. She learns quickly not to climb up on the counters or table-- at least when I'm around. :-) But I'm outvoted by the allergies, the anti-little-cat friends, and a roommate that's never lived with an animal in the house and is bizarrely freaked out by the fact that Allie doesn't just sit still and look cute like a stuffed toy.
So today I put up a sign at work, and surprisingly, I cried twice today thinking about it. It will be even more traumatic when I have to give her up, but better a good home where she will be loved than the animal shelter or the snow bank where my neighbor will send her.
I know all the cliches about old maids and cats, but there is something to be said for having a physical being of some kind around that loves me unconditionally. To come home to something that wants to show me affection is very addicting. To know that being with me makes one little cat totally and completely happy is, well, somehow amazingly cheering.
ok. now I've cried three times today about this.