the day after we brought the kitten home, we trudged back to the rspca on hong kong side for "olive’s" second interview. we left kitten where we left her, and put a litter box and sand on our shopping list.

this wasn’t an ordinary day, this was the day that TWO incidents occurred that made me realise not only that i was going to marry the man they call magnificent, but that i really really wanted to.

olive was sitting in her cage pretty much looking the same as we had left her. dark and mysterious all right. her age, unknown, but the kid who worked there figured that she was in between 3-5 years old.

beau charles dropped down to chat with her, and olive gave a mew. we had been very careful to look not only at the cats featured at eye level, but at the lower rows of cages. who knows where our cat would be?

remember a few weeks ago i posted about crack goes my heart? and a few paragraphs above i posted about the two incidents that made me realise i would marry charles? here’s the first.

beau charles turned to me, his face all passionate and earnest and said, "tess, i know we wanted to adopt two kittens, but you know what? everyone wants to adopt a kitten. i want to give this cat a second chance, a chance for a great life."  crack.

he asked the kid to let olive out of her cage, and once he picked her up, she lay her head on his shoulder and made, as my love decribed it, "a little goat sound". done deal.

we shelled out more money that we didn’t have for olive’s various ailments and processing fees, made a donation to the rspca, and then left. while the kitten had been quiet, this cat shrieked the entire way home. she shrieked in the lobby, in the lift, and in particular, when we opened the cat door and introduced her to her new home. she took one look at our 480 square foot flat of paradise, and zoomed underneath the bed, where she remained for the next four days.

beau charles and i went out to get the litter and box. it was heavy to carry back. i remember that. i remember it was a hot july day, and our arms were heavy and we were so happy with our babies. except one thing was niggling me about this olive….what was it….ah yes.

"charles, about your cat."

"our cat. yes?"

"there is a problem with her name."

"you understand that i’m not following you."

"i can’t call her olive."

"i know. she isn’t an olive, is she. dark and mysterious isn’t olive. olive is something you eat on your pizza and i can barely tolerate. i’m glad i didn’t let my distaste of olives stand in the way of choosing what is, you will agree, the perfect cat."

hard to say, what with her being under the bed and all, but whatever.

we decided it was too confusing for olive to have a new house and a new name. yet olive did not do this cat justice. what to do, what to do….bingo.

"charles, i know what we will do."

"one of the reasons i love you!"

"her name is olivia."

"olivia. regal, gracious, perfect."

and it did suit her. still does, actually.

back home in our flat, charles set up the litter pan and i took the cat toys we hadn’t been able NOT to buy out of their cellophane packaging. the newly christened olivia had no interest in the litter pan, and we weren’t too worried about her having accidents, but this little terror, who last night had rustled around the flat and had weed on the floor.

and then the second incident occured. my sweet charles took the little trembling kitten from her perch atop the hard drive, and carried her to the litter pan. he gently reached for her paw and stroked it through the litter, repeating the process several times.

crack went my heart. if he was so gentle and compassionate with animals, what would he be like with our children? and suddenly for the first time in my life, i wanted to know.

olivia had a new name and a new lease on life, and i knew i one day wanted the name mummy, and to bring life into this world.