Meet Lily.
Lily is my room mate. Lily is a cat, and she’s my cat. But I’m her human, too. I’m not sure if she makes any distinctions between the two. I think she is puzzled that I use the weird porcelain litter box, but other than that, she’s certain I’m just the other member of this small tribe.

If anyone would have told me a year ago that I would be co-cohabiting with a cat, I would have just shaken my head and walked away laughing. Cats have never been on my radar. They were to be avoided.

Everyone knows that cats are minions unto themselves. Occasionally they are minions of some nondescript, malevolent deity. But just on occasion.
I had wicked allergies when I was a kid. It sucked in the summer when other kids were playing, I was rubbing my eyes and blowing my nose. Nobody wanted to play with the kid that probably has snot on his hands.

But not the least of my allergies was to cats. Five minutes in the same room with a cat would make my eyes swell shut, and it would become difficult to breathe. Felines were deemed evil creatures that should be avoided whenever humanly possible. I lived this as a hard and firm rule of life.

But true to my theory, things have a wave to them. The frequency by which some things ebb and flow can evidently be vastly different. The period can vary from a very sort amount of time, or very long. (The period is how long a wave takes to go through one complete cycle.)
So what has happened is that I’m at a place where my allergies have substantially weakened their powers against me. And so, the cat’s fearsome defenses were no longer a thing to be feared. (You still have to watch out for the fangs & claws, but they are otherwise harmless to me.)
So, having gone to visit a friend who owned (co-habitates with) a cat, I was put into a position of having to deal with my fears. (More specifics on “friend” in a later installment. Let’s stick to the cat for right now.)

I’m a reasonable man. I know that I’ve got a good 180 pounds on this cat. I can take him if he wants to pick a fight. So what if they come equipped with little retractable razor blades on all four corners? I can take him.
I was introduced. The other human had to go use the porcelain litter box or something, and I was left alone with a beast that I had been told, “He’ll probably just hide. He doesn’t like strangers right off of the bat.” Yet here he was, giving me the eyeball. You know that eyeball thing cats do? 
I just did the only thing I knew to do: I patted on the back of the couch while calling the cat’s name and not breaking eye contact with him. “Ivan! Come here. Come here, Ivan”, in a firm voice.
And he came. And all of a sudden, I’d made a new friend. I knew he felt we were close friends, since he really liked drinking from my water glass. I mean, he wouldn’t drink after me if he thought I had cooties, would he?
Thanks to my new and unexpected buddy, Ivan, I now knew a whole new world feline friendships were possible!
But wait! I had only found that I wouldn’t instantly die from exposure to a cat. Nothing had actually changed. Cats simply weren’t dangerous anymore. It isn’t like I suddenly wanted a cat now.
That feeling of suddenly wanting a cat roommate took a couple more weeks to actually develop.
But I knew I needed someone to come home to. I needed someone I could be responsible for. I needed a roommate! And I had the Interwebs! Off the the websites of nearby ASPCA establishments.

I set my sights on a pair of year and a half old brothers. I would be able to keep them together, and they would have company for each other throughout the days! This would be perfect!
I drove to the ASPCA.
They had already been adopted. Dammit.
So I was invited to look at the cats they had available for adoption. Sure. Why not.
As I entered through the glass door of the “Cat Room”, my eyes were drawn to this harlequin faced cat at the end. There was a young-ish blond woman gushing over this cat. She slipped the card from the front of the cage and walked out of the Cat Room. Another rescued critter! Nice!
I looked over a number of cats. Some were attention starved. Some were very timid.
There was a cool tabby that I asked if I could see out of the cage. Sure you can.
He promptly scratched the volunteer, escaped, and had to be fished out from under the cages where he was hiding. I was then informed the he was now not adoptable for seven days because he had injured someone. 
Really? He was just staging a jailbreak that wasn’t well thought out.
I asked to see another cat, who promptly bit his handler, rendering him un-adoptable for seven days.
I began looking for a more sedate candidate.
I settled on a big black one with a white mask on his face. He was cool until they went to “chip” him, which is standard procedure when adopting critters. His standard procedure was to flip out and to not allow anyone to get close to him.

They asked if I wanted to go look at any of the others. Why not? I’m sure they have plenty of room in the kitty solitary confinement.
As I walked back into the Cat Room, I saw that the card was back in the cage of the harlequin cat, so I walked over to give her a closer look.
The young woman who was injured by contestant #1 walked up and said, “It is a shame. Everyone notices her, but they all change their minds when they see she is eleven years old. Nobody wants to adopt an old cat.

Except me.
So I brought Lily the Wonder Cat home.
She is fairly low maintenance, only requiring a brief (or longer) period of personal attention (petting), fresh food, clean water, some goofy cat toys, and a human to remove unwanted items from her litter box.

But most importantly, she is here every day when I get home from work. Sitting on the corner of the bed. Waiting (somewhat) patiently for me to pet her before she will move from that spot. She’s eleven. She’s allowed to be a bit set in her ways.

So now you know who Lily is. She is my unwitting road-trip partner. She is a positive energy for me where I once expected something negative. She is a part of this wave I’m riding. That’s something I can smile about.

Come back to see how this all works out. Just smile.