Unfiltered Story #262242

People ask me if I believe in fate or destiny or whatever you want to call it- I didn’t for a while, but after remembering this… I’m reconsidering.

When I was in third grade, my mom finally caved and took my sister and I to the humane society so I could get my first kitten, learn responsibility, etc. We all know the drill there. There were two there that day, a beautiful black cat with white splotches and a main coon/ragdoll mix (well, that was our best guess). I desperately wanted the little black one, but I also wanted her NOW, because what kid doesn’t want to walk out with an adorable kitten immediately? She wasn’t ready, since she hadn’t been spayed yet, but the other kitten was, so I took him.

A year later, and he passes tragically, hit by a car.

A year after that, we go back to the adoption center and leave with a tabby. Again, a year passes and so does he.

Finally, seventh grade rolls around, and my parents get a call: someone has a kitten they picked up off the street, maybe a few months old.

So, we go and take a look: she’s a black cat with white splotches… and she sits with her tail curled over her paws. She has been with me for almost thirteen years now, and I can’t help but believe it was meant to be, one way or another.