It was a cold and chilly night. Dark. Not like night time dark but the dark that only comes during the winter season, when daylights savings makes you turn your clock backwards and the sun sets by 4:30 p.m. Dark like the dark that you only see in the midwest while driving down a backroad with only the stars to guide your way. Dark like the dark you can only find in some dank smelly alley in the city.

The air was cold and moist. The weatherman had unsuccessfully predicted rain for 8 days but mother nature was recalcitrant as if to spite him. The clouds that had lingered overhead too seemed to reject the notion that mere mortals could tell them what to do so, as if in an act of rebellion, had been storing the rain ready to unleash a storm that times of Noah had not seen. Though the rain had not actually begun, the ground seemed wet in anticipation.

This is where our story begins. On a night like this the only people who were out were those who had a mind to do what needed to be done and get back inside. Jenn was one such person. As she skipped merrily along to the local market to pick up provisions, she was well bundled from head to toe with a short list of necessities in tow. As she made her way back to the apartment she had all those things that she had intended: bottle of wine, microwave popcorn, and chocolate. Content that these provisions would outlast any storm, she made her way home. But as she approached the apartment she realized that she had unexpectedly picked up something she had not intended. Tailing her just paces behind was a little cat stuck somewhere between a kitten and full grown adult. As she turned and stopped so too did the little feline fluffball. The two began a dance as old as time. She started then stopped. As she stopped, so too did her furry friend. Eventually, she reached the apartment and had to bid goodnight. But there was something about this cat. Before closing the door to the vestibule she made a decision. She thought, I will go upstairs and bring down some food. If the cat is still here when I return, I will feed her and play with her a little. It would be up to fate and the cat. But of course Jenn thought, I won't tempt the fates, and so climbed briskly up the stairs, dropped off her groceries and wasted no time on such formalities as even closing the door behind her. This is where the story will fast forward. About 20 minutes later, I heard a knock at our door and a whisper. "Neil. Put your shoes on and come down stairs, I want to show you something." When I reached the bottom of the stairs I was introduced to Polly. "She just followed me," said Jenn. "I don't think she wants to go and she doesn't have any tags," she continued. "Well," I replied, "she may not want to go because you are feeding her or it may be the fact that you are tightly hugging her and she does not have the choice." It was just a guess. Fast foward again. The rain was about to start any minute but Jenn was intent on protecting this little cat. So we walked around the neighborhood a little hoping she would meow or stop at a doorstep. No luck. We walked over to the local pet supply store to see if anyone had posted a flier for a missing cat. No luck. At that point there was no turning back. So we got in the car and decided to drive to the local vet to see if there was another way to identify this fuzzy furfball. For those who are not cat people or are well... guys, apparantly microchips are now placed in pets that can be scanned to indentify the pet and the owner's information. Long, long, story short. Three hours and three state and private companies later, it was determined that, yes she might have an owner but no, no one could identify the owner. One person suggested keeping her for a couple of days and he would try to find the owner's information. At that point the rain had begun and the thought of dropping her off at some cold dirty shelter seemed unconscionable and so we decided to keep her for a couple of days to see if we could get more information and assess our options at that time. The decision was made to keep her in the bathroom for the night with some towels for a bed, food to eat and a litter box. It was only for the night, 7 hours at the most. It was the fastest 7 hours I have ever witnessed in my life. Frankly, it felt more like 6 minutes before Jenn came out with the little cutey clinging to her shoulder. I guess we had made the decision, after of course she had been thoroughly checked for insects and cleanliness (6 minutes I guess is the industry standard, kitten evaluation, Silkwood, Exxon spill) that she would be more comfortable in the warm living room playing. So after a brief introduction to Bella, she was on her way. They hit it off immediately - soooo cute. Remember the work that I brought home to finish that night - what was I thinking. She was adorable though. The next day was full of phone calls and investigative work. We both knew that a decision had to be made before long. What to do with the tiny bundle of joy. And that night we...

Flash way forward and Jenn said her warm goodbyes hoping and knowing that their paths would cross again very soon. And that is the story of how we were settling in for the night, and along came Polly.