I love animals. So much. I don’t eat meat, I try to avoid leather, and I make an effort to say hello to any animals I might see around the streets of Boston. I might cry if I see a corgi or a puppy. Animals are too pure and good for this world, and I want to surround myself with them.

What I’m saying is that I adopted a cat.

Well, another cat. I wasn’t allowed to have animals in the house I lived in during college, leaving me pet-less for four years. My first priority when we moved to Boston was to adopt one. I couldn’t find an apartment that allowed dogs, but I did land a beautiful apartment with hardwood floors and cat allowance. We adopted Maggie our first week in town.

Isn’t she lovely?

She’s absolutely perfect, but she has so much energy and gets into so much trouble. We’re not home all the time, and I was worried she wasn’t getting all the socialization and playtime she needed. Plus, I wanted someone to teach her how to chill and not spend so much time ripping down curtains. I wanted to get another cat. So one day, as Brad and I were headed out for brunch, I said, “Hey, since we’ll be out already, what if we got another cat?” Brad, ever-patient and adaptable, agreed to go look around at the shelter with me.

I’d been wanting another kitten — Maggie grew up so fast — but when we arrived, the volunteers immediately announced to the line of potential adopters that they didn’t have any kittens that day. I was bummed, but I still wanted to look. Just to see the cats. I don’t really know what I was thinking. “Oh, I’ll just LOOK around the shelter and totally not adopt anything.” And that’s how we got Pippa.

What a teeny beeb.

We got Maggie when she was a kitten, and she’s about nine months old now. Pippa was estimated to be around that same age. She also had really similar facial markings, and she bumped into the chair at the shelter just like Maggie does at home. She was perfect.

We brought her home that day…and Maggie freaked out. She is the absolute stereotype of a scaredy cat, and she was terrified that there was another cat in the house. We kept them separated, but Maggie was a mess. And so was I. My whole intent with adopting another cat was so that Maggie would have a friend, but now it seemed like I’d ruined her life by introducing an intruder into her home.

Standoff.

Pippa, for her part, was totally fine. She hopped out of the box we took her home in and immediately settled onto the bed and fell asleep. Maggie is currently banned from the bedroom at night because she can’t help but dig her claws into anything that moves under the blanket, but Pippa was the opposite. She picked a spot on the bed and slept there the entire night, unbothered by moving feet or legs.

The first couple days we had Pippa, I was a wreck. I thought I’d made a mistake by not getting a kitten, that Maggie would be miserable, that they would never get along, and basically that I’d ruined everyone’s lives. I couldn’t bear the thought of taking her back to the shelter, but I couldn’t keep them separated by a door for the rest of their lives. Everyone told me to give it time, but it was all I could think about.

Spoiler alert: It turned out fine. We’ve had Pips for a month or two now, and she and Maggie have worked all their stuff out. And we’re already seeing the benefits! Maggie is now way braver in front of strangers, and she and Pippa chase each other around the apartment all day. There have been downsides too. Maggie learned how to climb stuff, leading her to reach areas where I kept things I didn’t want her reaching, leading her to scratch up my favorite purse (RIP coral crossbody). Pippa also recently broke my favorite vase, but it’s #fine. We make sacrifices for the ones we love.

BFFs.

It’s strange how different they are. We conditioned Maggie from a young age to tolerate us picking her up constantly, but Pippa won’t stand for it. Maggie sometimes jumps up on the countertop, but Pippa will climb to the top of the cabinets and then cry until we get her down. Maggie will bite almost anything that moves, and Pippa only opens her mouth to yawn. Maggie can sometimes be persuaded to cuddle on the couch for a couple minutes, and Pippa will sleep on top of me literally. all. night. No matter what position I’m in, no matter how much I move, Pippa is a rock. I’ve woken up with her on my chest, my side, my back, with her paws on my face or under my chin. She’s the most adaptable cuddler I’ve ever encountered.

Look at her teeny paws!!!

One last weird thing though. Pippa had a life before us, she was nine months old when we met her, and something in her past…taught her about alarm clocks. It’s so weird. She could be totally asleep, totally comfortable, but as soon as my alarm goes off in the morning, she gets up, stretches, and hops off the bed. I don’t know how she does it; that process takes me like ten minutes. And how does she know?? I have no idea. But she’s a perfect, wonderful morning cat. And we love her.