Approved for adoption

Yes, I know there is something called a decent period of grief. On the other hand, it is said that if a survivor marries again soon, it is a good mark to marriage.

Anyway, suddenly I couldn't stand the emptiness of the house any longer. We went online searching for a cat who would adopt us. All cat shelter sites, however, have a button that says “Adopt me”, which makes me suspicious of the humans who have constructed the site. We didn't push buttons, we went to the shelter. We did have a particular feline in mind who might adopt us, but things never go the way you expect.

Shelters are, cleverly, cautious about potential adoptive families. They ask you a lot of really good questions. Such as: Are all family members in agreement about a cat? (Yes!) If you have had a cat before, how long ago and what happened to it? (prolonged weeping) Where do you want your cat to be at night? (“Sleeping in my bed”). Have you got a cat flap? Do you believe in pet insurance? Are you planning to travel around the world in the next few weeks? Have you got nasty children who will pull the cat's tail? With our impecable track record, we were approved within minutes. But it's not for humans to approve us.

While I was filling out the form, Staffan browsed through the folder with available furry friends. Suddenly he stopped and pointed: This one. No-no, I said, we were going to look at... This one, he repeated. When we were taken to be introduced to the cats and asked whether we had any special cat we were interested in, Staffan replied before I had a chance.

In one of my old lives, I used to visit children's homes. It was one of the most horrible experiences in my life. You enter a room, and fifteen kids rush to you, screaming: “Mum!” You want to pack them all in your suitcase. Several of the caged cats screamed: “I'll take you!” We went to the one Staffan had noticed, as he said afterwards, because of the way her personality was described. The carer opened the cage. I went down on my knees, very carefully. I was talking rubbish in three languages. The cat took me in, sniffed, allowed me to touch her, jumped on my knees, began to purr. After a while, as we were leaving, she announced very loudly that we were approved.