Reference - a happy Kitten Owner


Testimonial prose by Sean Hall
(a satisfied Purrinot adopter)

Laura Thomas loves cats. Actually; that's an understatement. She loves them so much that, once you get one of her Purrinlot Kittens, they will never again be spoiled like she spoiled them.

Recently, I lost my darling Sandra at age 12 to cancer. Sandra was everything to me. Her death sent me into a tailspin. I cried for days. I cried at home, work, in the car, in the shower, at the drive-thru; you name it. I was textbook distraught. In a more lucid moment, I decided the only way to stop crying was to get another cat. Sandra would want that.

Let me preface the rest of this by saying that cats come to me. Instinctively, I suppose, they know I love them. Even feral cats in my apartment building parking lot come to me. My heart wants to take them all in, but my lease (newly modified) says I can have only two. And it would probably take that many to fill the void Sandra left. That in mind, I set out to find a new companion.

When it came to searching for a new cat, the Internet made things easy. I kept seeing a Persian kitten in my head --so that's where I headed. The search engines kept turning up the name Purrinlot. It turned out I didn't have to look any farther.

I happened to catch Laura's Web site,, at the time she had a stunning dark calico female on the kitten page. I e-mailed to see if she was still available, and assured her that her baby would be well taken care of. Sad to say, at least for me; the calico was taken. But, everything happens for a reason.

Though the kitten was taken, Laura and I struck up an e-mail conversation. She assured me there would be other kittens, especially solids and bi-colors, and I should have a look at those, too. I did. And that's how Heather and Otto came into my life.

Heather is black and white with a very feminine face. Even in her pictures at eight weeks, she seemed very much at ease about being a lady. But I still had second thoughts. Should I shell out the money for a Purrinlot Kitten, or, head to the shelter and "save" a not-so-fortunate cat, as I had done with Sandra. My answer came in a roundabout way.

When Sandra passed away, I made sure everyone knew by putting a tribute page on my website. People I knew--and many I didn't -- e-mailed me to tell me how moving they thought it was. Later, I gave Laura the link to that page, and got a similar reaction. Then, she told me about HER page, dedicated to her beloved Angora, Packy, who passed on at age 14. After reading her page, I knew. Anyone who has the guts to put up a Web page for their cats of the past is okay with me.

So, I made arrangements to pick up Heather a few days before Christmas, 2000. During those arrangements, Laura mentioned she would be at the Baltimore Cat Show the weekend of December 2nd and 3rd. Baltimore is a one hour drive...and my old stomping ground. I told her I would meet her at the show Saturday morning.

Laura wasn't hard to find. Just look for the show cage draped in wedding gown material, she said. Took about thirty seconds. About ten minutes into our conversation, a jet black furball came out of the show cage and proceeded to spend the next hour or so either on my shoulder or in my arms. His name is Otto. I fell in love with him immediately. Actually, I think he picked me. Laura assured me I could have him that day if I wanted--or, she would bring him when she delivered Heather. At first, I wanted them brought together. But, the more time I spent with him, the more I looked at the vendors around the show hall. "Let's see--I can get a carrier over here...comb and nail clippers over here...and..."

By 3:30, he was in the car and on his way home. To my place.

I have gone from the serenity of Self-Sufficient Sandra, who would stay in the same position in the same place for hours, to Otto, whose CFA name will be Purrinlot's Fourspeed Ottomatic. There's a reason for that. Otto is a buzzsaw. At this writing, he's barely five months old. He zooms around the house like a cartoon character, pausing to eat, use his box and take the occasional nap. He has tried to play with everything: Cat toys like Turbo Scratcher and his scratch post; the excess plastic litter box liner; a paper bag intentionally left on the floor. He has also tried to play with my dirty underwear, a video cassette box and the hind legs of my ironing board, hanging on the back of the door to the bedroom foyer.

When playtime is over, though, there's that face. What a face. And what a sweet, lovable, personable little buddy. There is nothing more comforting than his soft little body on my chest, purring loudly, eyes tightly shut. He knows I'm Daddy. And he knows he has a home here for the rest of his life. You can't buy that kind of bond.

And then, there's Heather.

Heather arrived at 12:20 pm on Sunday, December 17th. Laura and I speculated on what might happen when Otto and Heather met again; they're half-siblings. In person, Heather was even more beautiful than her pictures. Her face is almost like a Walt Disney caricature of a cat; sweeping eyes and an almost human face. Unlike Otto, who is still somewhat reticent around people, Heather is not afraid to get in your face. At this writing, Heather is seven weeks younger than Otto, but already bigger than he is. What fun to see him chase her in the bedroom--then, a few moments later, her chase him out of the bedroom! As I finish this testimonial, they are sleeping together, just four hours after being reunited. As I know they sleep better together, I will sleep better tonight knowing they are here.

Before I agreed to adopt Heather and Otto, Laura told me that her late Angora, Packy, meant so much to her, the only way to properly remember her was to have as many kittens as possible, because Packy loved babies so much. In the end, knowing that played more in my decision than any amount of money, or what the kittens looked like, or what lines they came from. At that point, I knew I wouldn't have to worry about the finished product. Laura is a very bright beacon of feline love. See the light.

Sean Hall

December 2000

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