Friends, something happened recently that I never saw coming.
And while I know life can be unpredictable, we never have full control, and that the Universe/God/Powers-that-Be love to upend our best-laid plans…
I was operating under the belief that I had at least a minority share in directing my life.
But you know what? I don’t.
And that is why now, though it was out of the blue, completely unforeseen, and something I’d have previously argued against…
I am the happy owner of a new Cat.
Meet Octavia Waddingham.
Yes, I named her after the bestie duo Octavia Spencer and Hannah Waddingham of Ride or Die dramedy fame.
Yes, she is a lovely blend of black and white swirled together in peaceful unity, much like the actresses’ friendship and also like my favorite cookie.
And yes, she was kissed by a celestial love entity who left its mark in the form of a black heart on her right side, exactly like my sweet dog Owie, who once saved my broken heart, and who also has a black heart on his side.
But for all my poetic waxing, she is full-on cat and so far intolerant of entreaties for cuddling. Or quiet.
Before I tell you how she finagled her way into my world, it’s fascinating to consider just how common this is.
When “Never Again” Becomes a Yowl at the Door
A lot of people say it out loud, even if it’s only to themselves.
I’ll never get another one. Not now. Maybe not ever.
And then a cat shows up on your porch. Or a friend calls about a dog that needs a home by Saturday. Or you walk into a feed store for bird seed and walk out with a rabbit.
This happens more than anyone admits.
And if this is your story, you might be like me, carrying around a strange mix of feelings:
delight,
confusion,
perhaps a sting of guilt.
As if loving something new so soon, or when you were adamantly opposed to it, says something about how much you loved the one you lost or how much you love the ones you have.
But you know what? It doesn’t.
An unplanned pet doesn’t mean you stopped grieving those you’ve lost. It doesn’t mean you aren’t showing up for those you still have.
It just means your capacity is expanding.
Capacity, when it comes to love, is a marvelous thing. It stays intact and grows and stretches and doesn’t tear even when we are convinced it will.
I think much of this is because grief can make your heart feel closed for business. I know it did for me, but life doesn’t necessarily read the signs you put up on your door that say “No Entry.”
Instead, life dishes it out when you least expect it, don’t want it, can’t handle it, and in the end, can’t believe you ever lived without it.
Half of All Dogs Weren’t Planned (Really?!)
When you stop and think about it, it’s not like babies and pets and marriages are always planned. The same goes for jobs, growth spurts, and medical maladies.
Like everything in life, the way these animals arrive is often sideways and uninvited. But it does follow a pattern.
Researchers in the UK wanted to know how people actually end up with their dogs. In a 2021 study published in the journal Animals, a team working with the charity Dogs Trust interviewed 142 sets of dog owners. About half described their dog as unplanned. Those dogs came through family and friends as gifts or because someone stumbled onto a dog who needed help. In most cases, nobody went shopping around; the dog simply arrived.
Cats may even be more likely to show up this way. Animal welfare groups have long estimated that at least 1 in 5 cats comes into a home as a stray.
And then here’s another finding I love. When the ASPCA surveyed nearly 1,500 shelter adopters, adult cat adopters most often said the deciding factor was how the cat behaved with them. In other words, the cat made the first move.
So when you say “she picked me,” you’re not being sentimental or froofy. You’re describing something adopters report all the time.
Sometimes we don’t choose our next pet. We just stop saying no.
But Is It a Sign? What the Research Says
This is the question I hear most from people whose new pet arrived at an uncanny moment: the week of the anniversary, the day after the ashes came home, a kitten with the same white patch on the same front paw. (Or like me, the matching black hearts.)
Bernard Beitman is a psychiatrist and visiting professor at the University of Virginia who studies meaningful coincidences. His research points to a few conditions that make people notice them more: being in a big life transition, running high on emotion, and needing something specific.
Grief pretty much checks every box, don’t you think?
(Fun detail: Beitman’s own curiosity started when he was a boy. He lost his dog, cried his way down the wrong road home, and found the dog right there.)
Some people hear that and think, so it’s just my brain. Others hear it and think, so I was open enough to notice. Both interpretations are welcome here, whatever you believe.
The way I see it, what people describe as signs tend to mush together like the perfect sandwich. They weren’t looking. The animal came to them first. The timing felt pointed.
And instead of the guilt they expected, they felt a peaceful sense of all-is-right, like a door they thought was locked had been opened from the other side.
Two Loves Can Share One Heart
Here’s something that surprises a lot of people: Loving a new pet doesn’t end your grief.
Sometimes it stirs it right back up.
You might catch yourself calling the new cat by your old dog’s name. You might cry the first night she sleeps in his spot.
But I wouldn’t view this as a setback. It’s more like two separate loves merging into something shared.
Grief researchers Dennis Klass, Phyllis Silverman, and Steven Nickman described this decades ago in their work on continuing bonds. Staying connected to the one you lost is healthy, and it doesn’t block new love. It complements it.
Please never look at the unexpected pet as a replacement. Nothing could be. They’re a new chapter. You already know how to love well, and probably you’ve got more love to give. From all angles, that is a beautiful thing.
So if you’re welcoming a new pet and navigating old grief at the same time, embrace the contrast. If you let them, they make each other sweeter.
For me, there was a smidge of guilt in adopting a new cat because my two sweet dogs are way up there in years. I didn’t want them to think they were being replaced. I want their final years to be peaceful and wrapped in love.
And then this darn cat came along and showed me I was full of it with my best-laid plans.
How It Happened
It’s not that I couldn’t love a cat. I grew up with them. Adored them. Grieved them hard.
But I’ve been firmly ensconced in the dog world for over twenty years, paired with the chaos of the kid world. Then the kids proved slightly allergic to my parents’ cats. Then I met a cat-person I couldn’t stand.
Don’t you see all my identity-based, order-driven, medically necessary, judgy reasons for not wanting a cat?
But last month, the world started to shift. I took my kids to our local Catopia Café to look for kittens for my sister’s family. The plan was to surprise my niece and nephew with a pair of roly-poly kittens.
We sat for a few hours, highly entertained by the antics of the 30-plus cats around us. But as my children played with the different sets of bonded kittens, an older, bolder cat kept catching my eye. A distinct black-and-white, she crossed my path again and again. I couldn’t help but notice the swish of her fluffy tail. It was like watching a temptress in action.
We found our perfect pair-o-kittens and filled out the paperwork, planning to pick them up two days later. When we returned, the black-and-white duchess returned. She surveyed the cat bed we’d brought, brushed up against my legs, and then tossed her head and walked away.
I dreamed about her the next two nights in total defiance. Then came the signs. Then my children’s entreaties, each sure they’d outgrown their allergies.
I hesitantly called Catopia and asked about the black-and-white. This regal little girl was a one-year-old who’d had four kittens much too early in life and so would always stay petite. She’d been an excellent mama but never got to have her own shot at fun. She also got hit with a tooth issue and had all her teeth extracted.
There were so many things to love about her story that I related to, as I’m also a petite mother of four (though happily, I have all my teeth).
I melted and said I would take her on the spot.
And there you have it. That is how Octavia Waddingham came to join my family. And I’ve loved her more every day since.
Bless you for this. I'm trying to get my sister to get another dog. She lives alone.
She loved the article!