Ten Years Ago

Yesterday was Isabella’s Adoption Day, and somehow I forgot.

In my defense, my mind hasn’t exactly been firing on all cylinders lately. Between migraines, work, and worrying about Isabella’s recent health issues, June 18 slipped by without me realizing what day it was. It wasn’t until later that I remembered: yesterday marked ten years since I adopted Isabella.

Ten years ago, I walked into the local humane society and met a tiny black kitten they had named Bridget. She was frightened, hiding under a chair, and uncertain about the strange world around her. I knew almost immediately that Bridget wasn’t her name. My cats have always been named after queens. Victoria had already held that title in my life, and Elizabeth was out because that’s my sister’s name. But Isabella—Queen Isabella—seemed fitting. Regal. Strong. Memorable.

What I didn’t know then was how important Isabella would become.

When I adopted her in June of 2016, I was still trying to find my footing in Vermont. I had moved 1,200 miles from home, and the year before had been one of the most difficult of my life. I was grieving the loss of a dear friend and struggling with loneliness in a place that still felt unfamiliar. Isabella arrived at exactly the right moment.

She was timid at first. She hid under the bed, cried when I left the room, and seemed convinced that everything in the apartment was out to get her. But little by little, she grew more confident. Soon she was exploring every corner of the apartment and making herself completely at home.

Unlike some cats, Isabella is not especially vocal. Most of the time, she communicates without making a sound at all. She has a look for when she wants something. A look for when she’s annoyed. A look for when she’s judging me. She quietly meows in the mornings when it’s time for breakfast, becomes quite vocal when I return from a trip and she wants to tell me everything I’ve missed, and will call out if she can hear me but can’t see me on the other side of a door. The rest of the time, she somehow manages to make her wishes known without saying a word.

Over the years, Isabella has been my constant companion. She has greeted me when I came home from work, curled up beside me when I wasn’t feeling well, and kept me company through moments of joy and moments of heartbreak. She has been the steady presence waiting for me at the end of each day.

Lately, I’ve been reminded just how much she means to me. Her asthma diagnosis and recent cardiac testing have been a source of worry. Watching her struggle to breathe during an asthma attack was frightening, and waiting for answers has not been easy. The good news is that she has not had an asthma attack in several days, which gives me hope that the medication is helping. We still have an echocardiogram ahead of us, but for now I am grateful for every quiet day when she seems comfortable and content.

Today, Isabella is ten years older than the tiny kitten I brought home from the shelter. She’s still stubborn. She’s still opinionated. She’s still the queen of this castle. And despite all the gray hairs she’s probably responsible for giving me, I wouldn’t trade a single day with her.

Ten years ago, I thought I was rescuing a frightened little kitten.

The truth is that she rescued me too.

Happy Belated Adoption Day, Isabella. Thank you for ten wonderful years.