After finishing veterinary school, I moved back in with my parents and started job-hunting. A few months later I started my new career on the auspicious date of April Fool's.

Not going to lie, the first year involved a lot of ice cream and crying.

Once I had settled in enough to know that I was in for the long-haul and was going to continue to have a steady income, I decided that I needed to come home to a furry reminder of why I was putting myself through this. I desperately needed something to love. So with my parents on board, we all decided it was time to look for a cat again.



It's funny, but I can still remember scrolling past her photo on PetFinder and immediately dismissing her because she and her sister were meant to be adopted out together. With plans to move into my own space someday, I really didn't want to have two cats (and two litterboxes!) in 500 square feet. After some debate ("But a kitten is more fun!" my dad insisted), we decided that we were likely looking for an adult cat with a friendly personality, and that it may take some time to find the right one for our family. We headed down to the local SPCA shelter and I cautioned my parents that we were likely not going to walk away with a cat today, we were really just there to look.

Thirty minutes later "Akira" (who had engaged in enough fights with her sister to warrant adopting them out separately) had charmed us enough that I was handing over the adoption fee while she was being packed away into a cardboard carrier. Let it be known that I had been willing to walk away and think on it some more, but my parents decided "this one will do". Thank goodness for them!

I almost immediately shortened her name to Kira because three syllables was too much work for me. Kira proved to be a bit of a chicken, initially seeking out hiding spots in her new home, but quickly adjusted to her new environment. I had always wanted a cuddly cat who would tolerate being picked up and she is more than happy to comply! My bed became the area she so graciously allows me to share with her, and I delight in the moments where she curls up next to me, stretching her front paws forward to warm my ears. When I come home, she is usually quick to come greet me, yelling at me with in her whiny voice until I give her the attention she so clearly deserves. There was no question that when I moved out that she was coming with me.

While she's been a dream for my friends (letting them pick her up and encouraging them to pet her at every opportunity) and a very attentive companion (sometimes overly so!), she is not without her annoying quirks. Kira does not fear or respect me in the slightest and knows exactly how to push my buttons! When she wants attention or food and is not getting it, she'll play the blinds like a xylophone, jump up on counters or tables, and reach up to scratch my fly screens! She even learned that if she got behind my flat screen tv and stood up with one paw against it just so, I would have an apoplectic meltdown! Kira also has a habit of just deciding I don't need to sleep, and if I try to lock her out of my room she will spend the next four hours body-slamming the door while meowing pathetically.

(She also has what I suspect is a sleeping disorder. Sometimes when she's in a deep sleep, she'll start spasming and subsequently urinates a small amount. It's not her fault and I'm not convinced it's a big enough issue to warrant medicating. And at least she usually sleeps on the blankets I set up at the foot of my bed, which are easy enough to launder.)

Other than that though? She's a pretty darn good cat. She makes me laugh with her antics and her consistently "resting bitch face". She wants attention and love so badly that I often have her racing between the living room and the bedroom so she can get under my hands for a good chin scratch. She comes when she's called and likes to be in the same room that I'm in (which is easy enough in 700 square feet). My dad very gruffly says that Kira is not a "real cat" and I laughingly call her my "dog-in-a-cat's-body" because she has none of the dignity or decorum of a cat and all the goofy adoration of a dog. I have always felt that my cats have loved me, but Kira just really, really loves me, and it's a nice feeling.

Unlike a dog though, I can guarantee that she will never save my life. Fire alarm? Straight behind the washing machine. Earthquake at night? No attempt to wake me at all. We joke that I'm going to meet my grisly end by trying to get her from behind the washer/dryer during a natural disaster and thus will promptly be crushed to death.

As I always tell her, she's lucky she's cute.

My dad's favourite cat is Pogo, and my mom's favourite cat is - without a question - Waffles. Me? I always say I don't have a favourite; each cat occupies their own place in my memories and I loved each of them the same and differently. I'm still not sure I could proclaim a favourite cat, but Kira has undoubtedly been very important to me. She has been my constant, reliable, infuriating, hilarious, and doting companion through my first years as a veterinarian, and I probably could not have asked for a better one.