Episode 8: Willow, My First Kitty
Music - "Simple Gifts," Shaker hymn. Piano by Jessica Roemischer
Subscribe on Apple Podcasts & Stitcher
Subscribe on Apple Podcasts & Stitcher
When I was seven years old, I got my first pet - a kitten. And this is how it happened.... One day, my mommy remarked, “We need a pet. A kitten. It will give us something new to love, and to be loved by."
“Oh, Mommy! I want a kitten,” I squealed. “I do!”
The next day, we got into my mommy’s car. It was a grey Volvo sedan. I sat in the back seat, as mommy always insisted. It was safer that way, she said. We drove steadily along the highway. I wondered where we were heading.
“There’s a place where they have lots of kittens,” mommy explained. “They need homes, and we can choose one.”
“I can’t wait!” I exclaimed. I was so excited.
As it turned out, we were traveling from where we lived in the suburbs of New York, and heading to the city. Finally, we arrived at a brick building, surrounded by many other brick buildings. It was a very different kind of place from home. We parked the car in front of one building, and approached the entrance. The building had frosted glass doors. You couldn’t see inside. Are kittens in there, I wondered?
“Welcome to our animal shelter,” a lady said, greeting us as we approached. She was dressed in a white uniform with a name embroidered in red thread on her lapel.
“We’d like to adopt a kitten,” mommy informed her.
“Please follow me,” she replied happily.
With anticipation, mommy and I followed her along a black-and-white, linoleum-tiled hallway.
Our footsteps echoed in the bare corridor as we walked.
“This is the cat section,” the attendant said, as we entered an area lined with steel cages--there was a funny smell that made my nose cringe. Mommy and I looked at each other.
“Let’s have a peek at the kittens,” she suggested.
As we came to the first cage, a large orange cat mewed and stuck its paw through the mesh door.
“What about this kitty?” I asked.
“Jessie, we want a young cat,” my mommy said. “Not a grown-up one.”
We kept going. In the next cage, several medium-sized black kittens were playing together.
“What about one of these?” I inquired.
“I’m not sure,” mommy responded. “They’re cute. But let’s continue.”
We kept going. In the next cage, several medium-sized black kittens were playing together.
Then we approached the third cage. A little grey kitten was playing with the shreds of newspaper that lined her cage.
“What do you think of this kitten?” the attendant asked. “She’s in need of a good home.”
“Can I pick her up?” I asked nervously.
“Yes, of course,” the woman responded, carefully opening the mesh door.
I timidly reached inside. As I did, the kitten’s soft grey nose touched my fingers. She mewed gently. Her bright green eyes met mine.
“Oh mommy, this kitty likes me!” I exclaimed happily.
With my outstretched arms, I drew the grey kitten near. As I took her into my arm, her body trembled. She purred as she curled herself into my chest. From that moment, the little grey kitten was mine. I called her Willow.
In first grade, I began to take the bus to school. As I made my way down the hill to the bus stop, Willow followed me. She watched as I got on the bus. She needed to know that I was safe. During the day, Willow waited for me to come home. She'd sit patiently on the windowsill while I was away. As I walked up the street, I’d glimpse her in the window.
When Willow saw me, she’d jump off the sill and run to the front door.
“Hi, Willow!” I’d say with delight as I came into the kitchen. Picking her up, I felt her body, warm and purring.
At night, I’d take a bath before bedtime. As I soaked in the white porcelain tub, Willow waited outside the bathroom door. When I finished, she’d follow me to my room and hop onto the bed. Positioning herself on my yellow and pink quilt, she’d curl up near at the foot of the bed. As I got under the covers, with my toes, I could feel the outlines of her soft body. Together, we’d fall asleep.
The following year, I began second grade. One afternoon, my teacher informed us that we were going to have a show-and-tell day.
“Think of something you’d like to show the class,” she suggested.
Willow immediately came to my mind. She was the most special thing to me, and I wanted to tell everyone about her.
That evening, I asked my mommy, “Tomorrow, we’re going to have a show-and-tell day. I want to bring Willow to school. Can I? Please?”
“Okay, Jessie,” my mommy replied, a little uncertain.
The next morning, I wrapped Willow in a red wool blanket. I picked her up, and carefully brought her to the car. I sat in the back seat, holding Willow on my lap. As we drove to school, she seemed calm. But the truth was, I didn't know how Willow would respond. After all, we were bringing her to a class full of students. Would she be anxious? Would the children frighten her? I was a bit nervous.
As we entered the school, I gathered her tightly. We made our way to the second grade classroom. When I arrived, the other children were arranged their items—a toy airplane, a Barbie doll, family photos. I opened the red blanket on my desk and Willow stretched her little legs, stood up and looked around. Everyone watched in amazement. For the first few moments, Willow stood peacefully on my desk. Then she lay down quietly, tucking her paws under her body. She wasn’t nervous, at all! Willow waited peacefully as I explained to the class why she was so special.
Several months later, I discovered that Willow’s belly was growing bigger.
“Your kitty is going to have babies,” mommy explained to me.
As the weeks went by, her tummy grew larger. When it was getting close for her to give birth, we set up a cardboard box and lined it with old towels. That way, Willow had a cozy place for her babies.
But Willow would have nothing to do with it. She kept jumping onto my bed and planting herself in my blankets.
"Willow, this is your box," I said to her as I picked her up and gently placed her in the box. But she wasn’t interested at all.
When it finally came time for the kittens to arrive, Willow began to meow, louder and louder. I was nervous and excited and curious all at the same time. I'd never seen babies being born before. Once again, Willow lifted herself onto my bed and wouldn’t leave. On my bed, in the place where I slept, amidst the sheets, Willow gave birth to her babies.
One by one, they were born - four little kittens right there on my sheets. They were wiggling balls of black and grey. After Willow had her babies, she washed them clean, stroking them with her long pink tongue. I watched her the whole time, feeling so special. I was alone with her. She was completely at home with me there.
After awhile, mommy came into the room. She carefully placed each kitten in the box, lined with the soft flannel. Willow jumped down from my bed to join them.
Throughout the day, Willow lay quietly and nursed her babies.
At night, I’d lie in bed, looking down at her from my pillow. She’d gaze up at me, her green eyes sparkling. She purred softly. She was so proud with her babies, and so happy.
As I lay wrapped in my warm flannel covers, Willow was close by, resting with her kittens amidst hers.
“Oh, Mommy! I want a kitten,” I squealed. “I do!”
The next day, we got into my mommy’s car. It was a grey Volvo sedan. I sat in the back seat, as mommy always insisted. It was safer that way, she said. We drove steadily along the highway. I wondered where we were heading.
“There’s a place where they have lots of kittens,” mommy explained. “They need homes, and we can choose one.”
“I can’t wait!” I exclaimed. I was so excited.
As it turned out, we were traveling from where we lived in the suburbs of New York, and heading to the city. Finally, we arrived at a brick building, surrounded by many other brick buildings. It was a very different kind of place from home. We parked the car in front of one building, and approached the entrance. The building had frosted glass doors. You couldn’t see inside. Are kittens in there, I wondered?
“Welcome to our animal shelter,” a lady said, greeting us as we approached. She was dressed in a white uniform with a name embroidered in red thread on her lapel.
“We’d like to adopt a kitten,” mommy informed her.
“Please follow me,” she replied happily.
With anticipation, mommy and I followed her along a black-and-white, linoleum-tiled hallway.
Our footsteps echoed in the bare corridor as we walked.
“This is the cat section,” the attendant said, as we entered an area lined with steel cages--there was a funny smell that made my nose cringe. Mommy and I looked at each other.
“Let’s have a peek at the kittens,” she suggested.
As we came to the first cage, a large orange cat mewed and stuck its paw through the mesh door.
“What about this kitty?” I asked.
“Jessie, we want a young cat,” my mommy said. “Not a grown-up one.”
We kept going. In the next cage, several medium-sized black kittens were playing together.
“What about one of these?” I inquired.
“I’m not sure,” mommy responded. “They’re cute. But let’s continue.”
We kept going. In the next cage, several medium-sized black kittens were playing together.
Then we approached the third cage. A little grey kitten was playing with the shreds of newspaper that lined her cage.
“What do you think of this kitten?” the attendant asked. “She’s in need of a good home.”
“Can I pick her up?” I asked nervously.
“Yes, of course,” the woman responded, carefully opening the mesh door.
I timidly reached inside. As I did, the kitten’s soft grey nose touched my fingers. She mewed gently. Her bright green eyes met mine.
“Oh mommy, this kitty likes me!” I exclaimed happily.
With my outstretched arms, I drew the grey kitten near. As I took her into my arm, her body trembled. She purred as she curled herself into my chest. From that moment, the little grey kitten was mine. I called her Willow.
In first grade, I began to take the bus to school. As I made my way down the hill to the bus stop, Willow followed me. She watched as I got on the bus. She needed to know that I was safe. During the day, Willow waited for me to come home. She'd sit patiently on the windowsill while I was away. As I walked up the street, I’d glimpse her in the window.
When Willow saw me, she’d jump off the sill and run to the front door.
“Hi, Willow!” I’d say with delight as I came into the kitchen. Picking her up, I felt her body, warm and purring.
At night, I’d take a bath before bedtime. As I soaked in the white porcelain tub, Willow waited outside the bathroom door. When I finished, she’d follow me to my room and hop onto the bed. Positioning herself on my yellow and pink quilt, she’d curl up near at the foot of the bed. As I got under the covers, with my toes, I could feel the outlines of her soft body. Together, we’d fall asleep.
The following year, I began second grade. One afternoon, my teacher informed us that we were going to have a show-and-tell day.
“Think of something you’d like to show the class,” she suggested.
Willow immediately came to my mind. She was the most special thing to me, and I wanted to tell everyone about her.
That evening, I asked my mommy, “Tomorrow, we’re going to have a show-and-tell day. I want to bring Willow to school. Can I? Please?”
“Okay, Jessie,” my mommy replied, a little uncertain.
The next morning, I wrapped Willow in a red wool blanket. I picked her up, and carefully brought her to the car. I sat in the back seat, holding Willow on my lap. As we drove to school, she seemed calm. But the truth was, I didn't know how Willow would respond. After all, we were bringing her to a class full of students. Would she be anxious? Would the children frighten her? I was a bit nervous.
As we entered the school, I gathered her tightly. We made our way to the second grade classroom. When I arrived, the other children were arranged their items—a toy airplane, a Barbie doll, family photos. I opened the red blanket on my desk and Willow stretched her little legs, stood up and looked around. Everyone watched in amazement. For the first few moments, Willow stood peacefully on my desk. Then she lay down quietly, tucking her paws under her body. She wasn’t nervous, at all! Willow waited peacefully as I explained to the class why she was so special.
Several months later, I discovered that Willow’s belly was growing bigger.
“Your kitty is going to have babies,” mommy explained to me.
As the weeks went by, her tummy grew larger. When it was getting close for her to give birth, we set up a cardboard box and lined it with old towels. That way, Willow had a cozy place for her babies.
But Willow would have nothing to do with it. She kept jumping onto my bed and planting herself in my blankets.
"Willow, this is your box," I said to her as I picked her up and gently placed her in the box. But she wasn’t interested at all.
When it finally came time for the kittens to arrive, Willow began to meow, louder and louder. I was nervous and excited and curious all at the same time. I'd never seen babies being born before. Once again, Willow lifted herself onto my bed and wouldn’t leave. On my bed, in the place where I slept, amidst the sheets, Willow gave birth to her babies.
One by one, they were born - four little kittens right there on my sheets. They were wiggling balls of black and grey. After Willow had her babies, she washed them clean, stroking them with her long pink tongue. I watched her the whole time, feeling so special. I was alone with her. She was completely at home with me there.
After awhile, mommy came into the room. She carefully placed each kitten in the box, lined with the soft flannel. Willow jumped down from my bed to join them.
Throughout the day, Willow lay quietly and nursed her babies.
At night, I’d lie in bed, looking down at her from my pillow. She’d gaze up at me, her green eyes sparkling. She purred softly. She was so proud with her babies, and so happy.
As I lay wrapped in my warm flannel covers, Willow was close by, resting with her kittens amidst hers.