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Mom’s Merry Tiger

How could I cheer Mom up for the holidays?

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The animal shelter had already closed for the weekend. Monday was Christmas Eve, so I knew I wouldn’t have a chance to bring home the cat I had in mind until long after the holidays were over. So much for Mom’s Christmas tiger, I thought glumly.

Christmas was a lonely time of year for my mother since my step-father died. She moved to a retirement home after he passed, and some of her friends confided to me that she hadn’t been herself lately. Mom was acting listless and wasn’t interested in her usual hobbies. But how could I help her cope?

The only time Mom seemed like her old self was when she would dog sit her neighbor’s poodle. The energetic little dog would leave her exhausted but cheerful by the time the visit was over. We’d always had pets growing up. Maybe a furry friend was just what Mom needed.

With Mom’s leg and back pain a high-maintenance dog was out of the question, so I logged into the local humane society’s website to look for a kitten. I had always loved brown tabby cats–they looked just like little tigers–and so I was excited to find the shelter had one up for adoption. This was the cat for Mom!

If only I’d looked sooner. Now how would I cheer up Mom for the holidays?

On Christmas day my husband and I had fun celebrating at his daughter Alisha’s house, but I couldn’t get that tiger cat out of my head. We came home, and even though it was Christmas, I was feeling a little gloomy. Then the phone rang.

“We found a kitten under our back porch,” Alisha told me, “Doesn’t belong to any of the neighbors. We’d keep her, but you know how my allergies are. Do you mind looking after her until the shelter opens?”

“Of course!” I agreed right away.  It wasn’t my handsome tiger, but if my prayers for a Christmas kitten were being answered, who was I to say no? We rushed back to Alisha’s place.

I knew the kitten would be perfect for Mom as soon as I saw her. She had bright, curious green eyes–and her fur? Covered with bold, black tiger stripes.

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