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Getting the 'Perfect Cat' for daughter took a journey

A few weeks back I made the drive to Tulsa, assigned with the task of helping my daughter get a cat.

Anyone who knows me knows that, once assigned a task, I very possibly will not rest until I've explored every option and angle of said task, thereby ending with the very best results possible. That is, if it's something I'm into, like shopping or looking for the perfect kitty.

I discovered my level of expertise in the Hunt for the Perfect (fill in the blank) when I became a Pageant Mom. Need a pair of white pants in the winter? No problem. Espadrille shoes when they're totally not in style? I scoff at that.

So how hard could it be to get the Perfect Cat for my daughter?

Eh. Not so hard, really. However, it was a bit of a journey, but it's likely our experience was more extreme than your average cathunter. 'Cause that's how we roll.

Our first stop was at the Tulsa Animal Welfare shelter, a huge facility; unfortunately the smell knocks you over as soon as you walk through the door. There was a big Cat Room, and I'm sorry to say the cats didn't look so great. Their eyes were bleary and watery, and the few cats I attempted to hold were wild and freaked out, not socialized at all.

We wandered into the main space, which from what I saw was 99 percent dogs and 1 percent rooster, inexplicably. Those poor dogs all pulled at my heart, and I wished I could have nabbed a few, but I can't. I just cannot.

The Lawton Constitution

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