Proof The Bible Is True

You can get a kitten,” I promised my seven-year-old daughter, Cali. “As soon as we get settled in our new apartment.” Her life had been uprooted when her father and I divorced, and I wanted to give her something to look forward to. So one Saturday morning, shortly after we unpacked the last box, we headed to North Bay Animal Services to pick out her new pet.

 

There were plenty of cats to choose from, but Cali had her heart set on an orange-and-white kitten. “Actually, we’ve got two of those,” the attendant told us. “Brothers from the same litter, in fact. A bonded pair. We call them Caramel and Butter.”

 

She brought the kittens to a private room where Cali and I could meet them. For more than an hour, we tried to choose between them.

 

“Can’t we just take them both?” Cali asked.

 

“We have to follow the rules of our new apartment,” I said. “Only one cat, remember?”

 

“I know,” Cali said with a sigh. “But look how much they love each other.”

 

I couldn’t deny it. They played like the best of friends. When they tired out, they curled around each other, their identical markings creating what looked like a heart. Still, the landlord had been clear about the rules. One cat only. And as long as both kittens got a good home, they would be fine.

 

After a long deliberation and a lot of tears from Cali, we decided to bring Caramel home. Cali renamed him Ozzy. That night I watched Ozzy and Cali fall asleep together, telling myself, They’ll forget about the other kitten in no time.

 

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