Maddie, A Love Story
Here is the story of how our our beloved black cat came into our lives and made them better.
I’m going to state right from the beginning that the following is a love story and if you’ve ever had a pet, you don’t dwell too much on how their story ends but, instead, how they came into your life and you there was a reciprocal love that you shared. Here’s how a black cat we named Maddie came into our lives and made us very happy parents for nearly 20 years.
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It was 2007 and New York City was feeling more and more like home. I’d moved there in August 2006 after needing a change from Los Angeles, where I’d lived for eleven years. After bouncing between a few sublets upon arrival, I found a studio apartment on 159th street between Broadway and Amsterdam and having settled into a routine between there, my job as an executive assistant at MTV Networks (in the iconic 1515 Broadway building, the home of Total Request Live – if you’re of a certain age, you’ll know what that is!) and spending time dating Boyd who (spoiler alert) would eventually become my husband. But it was time to add something else to my new home that I’d been missing – a cat.
Adopting was the only way this was going to happen since Boyd and I are both firm believers in ‘Adopt, Don’t Shop’ when it comes to pets. The Manhattan-based ASPCA on 92nd street was where I wanted to go look since it was a no-kill shelter and I was already a donating supporter of the organization. Having had two cats in my time in Los Angeles, I wanted to do one thing differently – I wanted a kitten. Both my previous cats had been a few years old when I got them and I’d always heard that a kitten will adapt your personality and you can start getting them used to things (like the dreaded nail trimming!) if you start them when they’re kittens. So a kitten was the plan.
I didn’t have a specific breed or color in mind and thought I’d be going alone to adopt since Boyd had said he wouldn’t be able to handle seeing so many cats in cages waiting to find a home. But, he eventually agreed to go and asked me one thing – do not get a black cat because if they ever get out and are lost, people will be mean to them since a lot of people believe that erroneous superstition that black cats are bad luck.
It wasn’t easy for Boyd to see the many, many cats in confined areas and I’d told him he could step outside if it became too much for him. I understood completely since there were a lot of cats in the facility and while they seemed happy and playful (at least in the closed-in play spaces with lots of towers for them to climb on and be active), there were others that maybe weren’t as social or good with other cats so they were in smaller rooms and many spent the bulk of their days in cages. You could go from room to room looking to see if any of them spoke to you, which is really just a way of saying see which one connects with you. I remember there were a few that I mentally ear marked as ‘maybe’ candidates either because they were kittens or just seemed loving and friendly.
We had gone through several rooms and thought we’d try one more room before either deciding on one or maybe leaving and coming back another time. We entered a room and I walked over to a cage that had a name tag saying the black cat sitting quietly inside was named Kimberly. I worked with a Kimberly at MTV who was full of life and a lot of fun so maybe that’s what made me initially take pause but I needed to see more. The attendant who was with us opened the cage and took Kimberly out and placed her on the ground at our feet. She immediately marked my legs by rubbing against me and seemed so at ease and comfortable with both of us.
I decided to take a chance and pick Kimberly up but I moved slowly to make sure she was receptive. I had already noted that the card on her cage estimated her as 3 years old and that she had been there at the ASPCA for several months. I asked the attendant why she’d be there that long and she wasn’t really sure. There were no behavioral issues or any warnings on the card. I think Boyd guessed that maybe it was because she was a black cat based on his earlier warning but there was something loving and easy about her from the first moment she was in our presence.
I picked up Kimberly and held her to my chest and she immediately rested her head on my shoulder. I looked over at Boyd, who had tears on his cheeks. “She loves you already,” he said. I knew then that even though she wasn’t a kitten and, yes, she was all black, that this was the cat who was meant to come home with us. “She picked you,” I remember Boyd saying to me, still tearful. There was no question that for whatever reason others may have passed her by, Kimberly was going to come home with us.
Given the ASPCA’s careful procedures with adoption, I had to get a referral who could speak to my responsibility and ability to care for the pet. My friend Erin Martin, who lived in Chelsea on 14th Street near 8th Avenue, had a cat (Timmy) that I regularly took care of when she traveled for work or was away. She worked out great as my referral and was glad to talk to the ASPCA and confirm that I’d be a fit parent. I believe I had to pay a $75 adoption fee and prepared to bring our new addition home that day. Thankfully, she’d already been spayed so we didn’t need to bother with that. I believe she was also up to date on her vaccinations and shots though I’d have to check her adoption paperwork to be certain of that.
We had already made sure we had the cat essentials before we brought her home – litter box, cat food, some toys - to bring her home on November 17, 2007 (I checked and still had some emails telling a few friends about the adoption). After filling out paperwork, we were handed a cardboard box with a carrying handle with Kimberly inside as well as a bag of Iams cat food and a bag of Feline Pine litter (small pellets that break down into powder – who knew?!) which I liked since that’s what she had in her cage so she was already used to both.
Kimberly was quiet in the cardboard carrier box and didn’t make much of a fuss but we also kept the box shut while on the train since we didn’t know what to expect especially on the noisy, busy train. We were getting closer to our stop when we smelled something and knew she had had an accident in the box. There wasn’t much we could do on the train and just hoped it wouldn’t get too bad. Turns out she’d peed and pooped in the box, which we found when we got her home but the box held itself together so we only had the smell to contend with.
The one thing the ASPCA employee told us was that when we brought Kimberly into her new home was that we should put her in the bathroom and let her stay in there for a day or two since sometimes entering a new home can be overwhelming for cats, especially adult cats. It sounded like sound advice so we took her into the bathroom before taking her out of the soiled box.
We kept her in the bathroom but happily sat on the floor with her and pet her and were so happy to have her there. But the first thing we noticed – she didn’t seem afraid in the least. She was marking us and letting us pick her up and just like when we first met her, she was as comfortable with us and we were with her. She was home. It was Boyd who said based on her chill behavior that we should just leave the bathroom door open to see what she’d do. If she hid or stayed in the bathroom, it was fine. Whatever made her feel comfortable. But when we opened the door, she walked from the bathroom into the nearby kitchen area and plopped down on the floor. Not in a pensive, fearful crouch – she took up space as if to tell us and anyone else “I’m home, bitches.” She sure was!
Now that we knew our lovely black cat was going to be a happy addition to our home (to be clear, Boyd wasn’t living there yet but he was there a lot so it was already feeling like “our” home), one thing had to change - there was no way this loving cat was a Kimberly. It just didn’t fit. I didn’t know what did fit but we knew what didn’t. I hoped that she wouldn’t mind a new name but figured with all the newness in her home and these two gay guys swooning over her, she could also get used to a new name. I told Erin that we were thinking of a new name for her but nothing had sounded right yet…she mentioned Madison and that one really clicked for us. But Madison felt a little formal but Maddie felt just right so ‘Kimberly’ became Maddie (or Mads for short). Done!
The apartment was on the top floor of a three-apartment unit. One apartment on the ground floor, one on the second floor and we were on the third. There were two closets in the hall where I could keep coats and other things and it always felt safe since nobody would be up on that floor unless they were coming to see me. Since there was a main, locked door on the street and then another door that would lead you to the staircase, we began letting Maddie out to run up and down the stairs and there was never a big fear that she could get outside. I still remember her getting bursts of energy (usually after a good poop!), which I’d call ‘the crazies’ and watching her run up and down the stairs.
And that meow! Maddie had the best meow and like all parents, we could tell the different meows and what they meant. There were her meows when she was hungry and wanted to eat and then different meows if she wanted us to wake up or just give her some attention. Maddie had no problem letting you know when she wanted anything!
It was the 159th street apartment where Boyd starting giving Maddie little scraps from his food and she loved it. One of my favorite photos is of Boyd on our couch eating a Honey Bun (a packaged pastry wrapped in plastic from one of the local bodegas) and giving her little pieces. If Maddie wasn’t a beggar before we got her, she sure learned how to beg quickly with us and most of the time we didn’t care. It was fun to see what she liked (turkey, yes! Tomato sauce, yes! Broccoli, yes…some other spicier sauces, definitely NO) and if it made her happy, we were happy. And shortly after that, Boyd did fully move in and we were a very happy household.
By early 2008, I was done working at MTV and was in the early days of starting my career as an entertainment journalist first online and eventually in print publications. It was new territory but I loved it and realized if I really put 100% into that career that it could become my full time job and maybe lead to great things. I also had had enough time and distance from Los Angeles that I was thinking it was time to move back. I loved the first two winters I was in New York City since I hadn’t experienced snowy, cold winters since I’d left my home state of Indiana in 1995. However, all that charming feeling went away by the time I hit my third winter in New York City. But I now had a cat and a boyfriend who had moved in so a few things happened to help make the decision. I truly believe the universe does present things to us and often gives you the nudge you may need to make both big and small life decisions.
First, my former literary agent and good friend Sita, who had moved from New York to Los Angeles, was going on a three-month road trip as part of her honeymoon with her then-fiancé Oscar and they needed someone to stay at their Santa Monica place for three months. I was tempted but Boyd had been a New Yorker for over 20 years so I didn’t know what to expect when I mentioned moving back to LA. “Get me outta here!” he said, also ready for a change. Everything fell into space quickly.
But what to do with Maddie? I’d never traveled with pets before and it wasn’t a no brainer that she’d come with us. Also, Sita’s soon-to-be-husband Oscar was very allergic to cats so we wouldn’t be able to have her in their Santa Monica apartment for the three months we’d be staying there. Thankfully, Boyd’s NYC friends Jack, Lohng and Robbie agreed to take Maddie for a few months while we got settled in Los Angeles. We figured once the three months were up in Sita and Oscar’s place, we’d find a place that would allow a cat and return to NYC to get her.
The thought did cross our minds about leaving Maddie in New York City but thankfully that thought didn’t last long. First, our NYC friends weren’t interested in keeping her long term, citing how she’d probably outlive the three of them. Also, since I needed to return to NYC to clear out our Washington Heights apartment following a few months with a subletter anyway, it was decided when I headed back to LA, I would also return with Maddie.
One vital thing that had to be done before getting Maddie on a plane was taking her to the vet, never a great experience since the most stressful part was always getting her in her carrier. Besides getting her nails trimmed (no, she would never let us trim them so they were sharper than sharp), the vet had to produce travel documents which I’d need for the flight from NYC to LA. I had never traveled with an animal of any kind so to say I was nervous is more than a little accurate. The vet gave me some medicine that would mellow her out but, true to form, Maddie smelled the suspicious substance in her food and wouldn’t eat it. Bless her shrewdness!
Not all airlines let you keep a cat in its carrier in the main cabin of the plane but I made sure to choose one that did (I honestly don’t remember which one as I write this) since there was no way I’d subject her to being stowed in the plane with luggage and other animals.
The most intense part of the trip was airport/TSA requirement that I would have to take Maddie out of the carrier and hold her as we walked through security together. I envisioned her being so freaked out she’d leap out of my arms and disappear into the busy airport. I did my best to keep that thought out my mind as we approached the TSA screening area and after depositing my carry-on bag, I opened the carrier and took Maddie out, holding her tight in my arms as I pushed the carrier through the x-ray machine. As you can imagine, any TSA area is busy, loud and chaotic. This being her first experience at the airport, instead of trying to flee, Maddie just clung to me (hence why I am glad the vet was able to get her nails trimmed!). We walked through the scanner, was given the ok to continue and once we arrived back at the freshly scanned carrier, Maddie was happy to climb back into it. I think we both let out a big sigh of relief and proceeded to the plane.
The 6-hour flight to Los Angeles went without incident. Maddie’s carrier fit below by my feet and other than sticking my hand in the carrier to stroke her with reassuring words, she just hunkered down as cats tend to do on a plane (or anywhere unfamiliar for that matter).
Once we arrived in Los Angeles, the cab ride from LAX to our new apartment in West Hollywood (where we’d be for the next 14 years!) seemed to take longer than usual because I just wanted to get Maddie out of that carrier. She hadn’t eaten or drank any water but (thankfully) no poop or peeing so I was certain she was ready to relieve herself and get some food in the belly.
We finally arrived at our N. Orange Grove Avenue apartment in West Hollywood where Boyd was waiting for us. Her litter box was ready, food and water bowls both filled. I opened the carrier and Maddie did something she’d done when we first brought her into our Washington Heights apartment – she just lay down in the middle of the floor as if to once again say “I’m home, bitches!” No muss, no fuss.
That’s exactly how Maddie was from the first to the last day we had her in our lives. She did spend some time exploring the new space but I truly think (and Boyd will back me up) she knew she was with her two Dads and that’s all she needed. It’s all we needed, too! We’d live happily as a trio for the next several years until Mango came into the picture. More on that part of the story soon!
[If you missed Mango’s story and how we got her from Los Angeles to Bangkok, read all about - and see photos - right here.]