I only look for a couple things in a guy: dark hair, green eyes, four paws, basically my cat. March 26, 2017, I adopted the love of my life; it was almost like he was waiting for me in that cold-smelly animal shelter. His gorgeous green eyes and cute little black nose won my heart over, and I could tell he liked me too. He continuously jumped onto my lap and nudged his delicate head into my chest; that was his version of cuddling. I was as eager as ever, as I could hardly await to get home and tell my parents about the precious “treasure” i found.

After arriving home, I waltzed to the kitchen all starry eyed to find my parents awaiting eating their dinner. “Mom, dad, I want another cat!” I exclaimed with joyous eyes. Of course they said no because we already have two cats, but two just wasn’t enough for me. My heart shattered into fragment pieces, but I wasn’t giving up without a fight. So, I made an elaborate powerpoint presentation on google slides. I did make some very convincing points, for example, how I needed a little bit of light in my life because of everything going on around me (for example: my ex and I breaking up, school stress from grades dropping, typical high school stuff). Though they nodded their heads in agreement, I could tell by their blank faces they weren’t giving in. At this point, I was so desperate, I started crying, loudly. I sat on the edge of my kitchen table bawling my eyes out, I cried, “I really want this cat, he’s so cute and pure and I just really want him.” Of course this got their attention. However, their attempt to calm me down only made matters worse, I wasn’t going to stop until they agreed (stubborn, I know). Later that evening, they finally caved in.

“If we get you this cat, you have to promise to be responsible and take care of him. Clean his litter box and feed him every day,” they demanded of me. Of course I agreed because I would do anything to get him.
Weeks passed until I could finally take him home. I visited him every single day, but being able to carry him out of the animal shelter in my loving arms gave me the same feelings as I first saw him; that warm, happy feeling you get when something remarkable happens. Arriving at my house, I was too excited to realize I’d have to teach him how to get along with my other kitties. Long story short, this ended in disaster. My other cats clawed and hissed at him making him terrified. Thankfully, they got used to him quickly, except my cat Tucker, he kept chasing him. However, as things settled down, he fit right in.  Well, almost, he needed a name. I searched the web and asked my peers, but nothing seemed to fit. Days later, we were in my room watching old movies and Casper the Friendly Ghost appeared. Kasper? That’s a cute name! I thought to myself. I looked at him and his big green eyes, “Kasper, that’s what I’ll call you,” I whispered to myself. He nudged his little head against my chest as he’s always done. He finally had a home and I finally had my own bundle of joy.

He was pur-fect.