12. Marisol
Marisol
I think my sister wants me to get a cat.
Cats are nice. I’m more of a dog person.
Yeah…but I don’t know if I’m a cat person. Definitely not a dog person.
Knew there had to be something wrong with you.
I’ll let you know if I have a new fur baby tomorrow.
Name it Lil Cisco.
Gross.
T he air was ripe with the fresh scent of piss and shit.
There was no escaping it, even in her car.
The smell permeated the air and slipped through every opening and crevice.
Why the hell was she here? She didn’t even think she wanted a pet, and yet here she was, at nine in the morning, parked by an old, smelly building with a line out the door.
It was because she felt like she owed it to her sister.
Like coming here would somehow make her feel better about how badly she treated Lola growing up.
The thought of turning around and driving back home was tempting…
but she was already here. It would feel like a waste not to go in and at least check it out.
With her mind made up, Marisol got out of her car. The scent was only worse out in the open, but she hoped she’d eventually get used to it. That or pass out from the fumes.
By the time she made it to the end of the line, it had started to move, and people were heading inside.
Excited children with their parents spoke animatedly about the pet they would soon adopt and whose bed they would sleep in tonight.
A few older women stood in a cluster, all discussing if they should get a cat or kitten.
From the sounds of it, the discussion was getting heated.
To say that Marisol felt out of place was an understatement.
She slipped in between the empty spaces of people, making her way inside.
The room was small but open. Two doors on opposite sides of the room led to two different areas.
One for dogs and the other was marked cats.
The boisterous barks from the dogs made her happy she didn’t need to go through that way to get to the cats.
Already she was overstimulated and overwhelmed and didn’t want to add anything more to the mix .
Most of the crowd seemed to be going left toward the dogs, which left the right wide open for her to sneak through.
The sounds were muffled the moment she stepped through the door into a white room filled with plexiglass cages.
Soft purrs and meows followed her the further she walked into the room.
Most people stayed toward the front where all the small kittens were, which left the back completely open for her perusal.
Marisol had never seen so many cats in her life, in all different colors and various sizes. She saw a gray cat with white whiskers. According to the sign on his cage, his name was Mr. Whiskers. Mr. Whiskers had a more extensive hair routine than her, judging by how shiny and luscious his coat was.
She didn’t stop at Mr. Whiskers. There were tons of other cats to see, and Marisol took them all in. The same group of older women—apparently having decided upon an older cat—crowded some of the cages in the back. She maneuvered past them, toward the end of the room.
The cages back here were mostly empty, with only the occasional sleeping cat. Eventually, she didn’t come upon any more, but something possessed her to make her way to the end, just to say she went through it all. Marisol was about to return to the entrance when something caught her attention.
Easily mistaken for a white cloth or small blanket, a short-haired white cat peeked its head up.
Ocean-blue eyes stared back, assessing her.
There was no name on the cage or anything that marked the cat as available.
Feeling drawn to the lonely cat, Marisol took a step closer.
The fur on the cat’s back stood up on end, making her pause.
Tentatively, Marisol reached out, placing her hand at the small opening in the plexiglass.
At first, the white cat did nothing but hiss.
She should have pulled back and left. There were hundreds of other cats that were far friendlier, but none of them intrigued her quite like this one.
She couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe because this cat was alone, away from everyone else.
It wasn’t getting any attention and had to defend itself because no one else was around to do it for them.
That cat reminded Marisol a lot of her.
It was as if the cat came to that realization at the same time.
Slowly and cautiously, it got up and approached Marisol.
She didn’t move, keeping her hand where it was to let the cat decide.
Soft fur soon brushed her fingers as the animal moved closer to the glass.
Then a new sound appeared. Not hissing but soft, low purring.
Marisol looked around, but she didn’t see any volunteers. No one was paying her any mind at all. She hesitated only slightly before reaching for the lock and unlatching it. The door opened, and blue eyes stared back at her as if to say, well, what now?
“You better not bite,” Marisol muttered and reached for the cat. She winced once she had her hands around the animal, waiting for it to attack her, but it never did.
“Okay, this is good. We’re good,” she murmured and pulled the cat to her chest, gently rubbing its little head. The soft purrs only got louder. “Well, hello there. This isn’t so bad, right?” she asked, talking to herself. The cat closed its eyes and lay against her.
“Wow, that’s impressive,” a female voice said from behind Marisol.
Marisol jumped at the sudden noise. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. She felt like a little kid who was just caught doing something wrong.
The woman in front of her was roughly her age, with short-cropped black hair that contrasted starkly with her pale skin. It should have looked off-putting, but it worked on her, giving her a gothic vibe.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see anyone over here and?—”
The woman waved her words away, showing off the numerous gold rings adorning her fingers. “Oh, don’t apologize. We encourage guests to play with and pet the animals to make sure you’re a good fit. I’m just surprised because she has not let a single person touch her since she arrived.”
Ah, so the cat was a girl.
“Mostly she stays in the back of her cage and hisses at any of the volunteers who try to help her,” the woman explained.
“Which is why we have her back here all alone. We tried moving her up to the front, but she would fight anyone who tried to touch her. We didn’t want any potential families getting bitten or scratched either. ”
“What happened to her?” Marisol asked. There was a reason this cat acted out. It wasn’t a natural response, which told her she hadn’t had the easiest upbringing.
“Sadly, we don’t know much about her,” the woman said. “We got her about a month ago. She was left at our entrance in a small makeshift cage. She was really dirty and lethargic, so we managed to get her cleaned up and fed, but since then, we haven’t been able to approach her.”
“Did she come with a name?”
The woman shook her head. “No, unfortunately. We’ve been calling her Snowball though.”
Snowball. She liked that. More surprisingly, she liked the cat. Damn Lola.
“What is the process of adopting?” Marisol asked.
As if understanding her, Snowball began to purr louder. She leaned forward and licked Marisol’s hand with her scratchy tongue. It was gross, but also kind of cute .
“There’s some paperwork to fill out and a quick pet safety lesson,” she said.
Marisol looked down at Snowball, who was content in her arms. Was she really going to do this? She thought about leaving Snowball behind, and the thought was physically painful. She couldn’t leave this cat alone, always on the defense every time someone walked by. That was no life at all.
“I would like to adopt Snowball.”
The woman grinned, her pretty face brightening. She clapped her black-manicured hands together. “That’s wonderful. Follow me, and we will get you and Snowball ready to go. Did you hear that, Snow? You have your fur -ever home!”
Snowball appeared unbothered by her joy.
Marisol followed the woman out of the cat room, through a door she missed at the end of the room. It led to an office space with a few other volunteers and people adopting pets. The woman took the last available computer and sat down, gesturing for Marisol to take a seat on the wooden chair.
“Do you have your ID on you?” she asked.
Marisol shifted Snowball’s weight to one arm and dug through her purse until she found her wallet. “Yeah, here it is.” She passed the ID over.
“Marisol Roberts. That’s a pretty name,” she said. “I’m Stella. Been here for about two years volunteering. My partner says I like animals more than people, which is accurate. People suck. Pets give us undying love and devotion.”
“People can be…complicated,” Marisol agreed, which seemed like an understatement.
Stella passed Marisol a clipboard with things to sign and fill out. Most of it was simple. Her name, where she lived, if she ever had a pet before. The last page was an acknowledgment for responsible pet owners, detailing exactly what she needed to do to care for Snowball.
“I’ll give you a copy of the last page,” Stella said once Marisol handed her back the paperwork.
“It details Snowball’s diet and records.
Like I said earlier, we don’t have any of her history before she came to the shelter, but we’ve been told she is roughly five years old, and we managed to get her up-to-date on all her shots.
You’ll still want her to get into a vet soon for assessment.
Do you live in the area?” When Marisol nodded, Stella searched through the messy desk until she located a yellow paper.
“Here, take this. These are vets and clinics we recommend in the area. It’s a good place to start if you don’t have one you like going to. Do you have any questions for me?”
“Yeah, what type of food should I be feeding her? Is one brand better than the other? I’m new to this,” she admitted reluctantly, afraid Stella would deem her incompetent and take Snowball away from her.
She just met the little white cat, but already she was forming a bond with her.
As irrational as it seemed, she was excited, albeit nervous, to take Snowball home.
“On the back of the ‘How to care for your cat’ paper, we wrote down what we have been feeding her here and potential wet food you could also give her. You really want to avoid artificial preservatives and carbohydrate fillers. The packages will list all the ingredients, but if you use the one we have been giving Snowball, you should be fine,” Stella assured.
There were so many other questions Marisol had, but she didn’t know where to start and didn’t want to overthink the situation. She would figure it out or enlist her sister’s help since Lola was the reason she was getting a pet in the first place.
Stella excused herself before coming back out with a box carrying case.
There were air holes at the top, and Marisol was horrified when it was placed in front of her.
The very first thing she would buy Snowball was a proper carrying case, because this just seemed inhumane.
It wasn’t, but Snowball still deserved better.
“One last thing,” Stella said as Marisol placed Snowball in the box, saying a silent apology to her. She looked up just in time to see Stella hand her a neon-green paper. “I don’t usually give this to everyone, but you seem to have a way with animals that would be greatly appreciated around here.”
Marisol took the flyer and read the bold words at the top: Volunteers wanted .
“You don’t need to answer right now, but we would definitely love to have you on the team. You have the right vibes that would fit in with the rest of us, and clearly you have a way with animals.
“Our number is on the front.” She pointed to the contact information.
“I’m here every Thursday through Monday.
Just call and ask for me if you have any questions.
Feel free to drop in too. I really hope to hear from you, Marisol.
” Stella’s smile was genuine and friendly, reminding her of a gothic golden retriever.
It felt nice to be wanted, and that was nearly enough for Marisol to agree, but her father always told her to take time to think through decisions and not act on impulse. She figured that would apply to this situation as well. “Thank you. I’ll let you know soon.”
Stella seemed content with her answer and smiled. “Do you need help out?”
The offer was kind, but Marisol shook her head. “I got it.”
“It was good to meet you, Marisol. I hope we hear back from you soon. Just take this door here, and the parking lot will be to your left.” Stella went to open the door for her .
Marisol gathered the paperwork, hoping she remembered everything, and then grabbed Snowball, who meowed from the box. I know, I’ll get you out soon, she thought.
“Thank you for your help,” she said as she passed Stella.
“Happy to. Have a good day and enjoy your new family member!” Stella called before the door shut.
Walking quickly, Marisol fumbled for the keys and unlocked the door. As soon as she was inside with the AC on, she opened the box up. Snowball jumped out of it with an annoyed meow. She walked in circles on her seat before plopping down, looking regal and comfortable within her car.
Then reality sank in, and, holy shit, Marisol just adopted a cat.
“Fuck,” she groaned and reached for her phone.
Her finger hovered over Lola’s number to call her and demand she help Marisol with everything Snowball would need.
But then she scrolled back up and clicked on another name.
She hadn’t seen him since their date, but they had been texting pretty much every day.
So, calling him now wouldn’t be weird…right?
Before she could talk herself out of it…
He picked up on the second ring. “Texting wasn’t good enough for you anymore, Princesa?”
She ignored the warmth that went through her body each time Cisco called her Princesa. “I adopted a cat!” she blurted.
“Hey, that’s awesome. You weren’t sure if you’d actually get one today,” he said, ignorant of Marisol’s rising panic.
“Is it awesome though? Or did I just make a stupid decision?” she asked, unable to keep her anxiousness out of her voice.
“Marisol—”
“I mean, where do I even go to get Snowball food? Would Trader Joe’s have it? That’s where I get my food. And what about a litter box or toys? Cats need toys, right? I don’t know any pet stores around. Fuck, maybe I jumped into this too quickly.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone that went on so long, Marisol had to make sure the call didn’t drop. It didn’t. Then, finally, Cisco said, “Send me your location. I’m coming to get you.”