This holiday season, my wife and I will be celebrating a new furry addition to our family. We’ve adopted the Chartreux kitten that we’ve been fostering (and I’ve been posting photos of never-endingly on social media) since late August. We’ve decided to name her Gigil.
GIGIL is a Tagalog word meaning the irresistible urge to pinch or squeeze something or someone that is unbearably cute.
— Quite Interesting (@qikipedia) July 2, 2014
During the summer, we found Gigil scared, hungry, and abandoned in our neighborhood. Since then, we’ve fallen in love with her, and she’s become close friends with our one-year-old cat Kofi and our two five-year-old ferrets, Tricky and Nessie.
We would not have this wonderful joy in our lives without the help, care, and advice from Friends For Life Cat Rescue in Frederick, Maryland. I cannot emphasize that enough.
I’ll let my wife Ashley explain.
Gigil’s Story
Written by Ashley Oland
About a week before the start of my school year, I was walking around the back to water the new plants when I saw a little grey bunny dash across the yard into the neighbor’s yard. But I looked again and saw it wasn’t a bunny; it had a long, narrow tail. It was definitely staring at me with amber eyes as it scurried along the neighbor’s house. I tried to follow it, but it disappeared around the corner.
A couple days later, Ian and I were unloading the car when I heard urgent mewing. I walked to the end of our parking lot where there’s a retention pond. I heard the sad cries, but couldn’t see where they were coming from.
The next day, Ian and I heard more frantic tiny mewing and finally saw its accompanying tiny grey kitten.
We sat on the front steps for hours, talking to the kitty and trying to get closer. The cat would get closer, then get scared and run 10 feet away and hide under my car. This happened dozens of times. Eventually, I caved and brought out a cup with some of Kofi’s wet food. I stepped back and watched the bedraggled little thing snarf it down while staring at us. I fed the kitty again later that night.
The next day, sure enough, the kitty was waiting outside our house for more food.
I fed it a few times and came up with a plan. We’d capture the tiny thing in Kofi’s kennel, put her in the basement bathroom away from the other animals, and call a shelter the next morning. We asked neighbors if anyone had lost a kitten, but didn’t find anything. She’d be gone by Monday night, and my conscience would be relieved.
I was super busy the next day (being a teacher, duh). While I was snarfing down my own lunch, I managed to call my vet. They said it would cost around $700 for all the shots and surgery that the little cat needed, if we were to adopt her. Nope, not a good option. I called the shelter nearest us, but they had no room for another cat. I remembered that we adopted Kofi from a place called Friends for Life Cat Rescue, which puts cats up for adoption at local PetSmarts and the Petco. I gave them a call. Beth answered the phone and said she didn’t have room for more kittens. Desperate, I asked if it would make a difference if I fostered her. Tears came to my eyes when Beth told me that would work perfectly. Her healthcare wouldn’t cost us anything. I felt so relieved that this kitten would be safe for now, and would eventually go to a loving home.
Beth warned me that her first-time foster parents were always “failures,” so she also mentioned the details about if we adopted her ourselves.
When I told Ian the plan later that night, he said that he was already so attached to this kitten and wanted to keep her.
Ian felt for the little kitten and wanted to keep her, but I was against it. I love cats, of course. But I had my perfect little balance here. I’d worked hard for years to get to this place, and I didn’t want to bother Kofi. Really, I was scared of change.
I spent days calling friends, texting them with photos, asking around on Facebook if anyone wanted this cat. So many people said she was cute, but there was always a reason for why they said no. I even traipsed friends in the basement to meet her. Believe me, I tried to get rid of this cat so I could go back to my routine.
As the weeks went by, this tiny grey cat became integrated into our lives. And there was a stunning transformation.
[walks downstairs, sees this] pic.twitter.com/nq15g0owL7
— Ian Oland (@ianoland) November 2, 2015
Ian and I went through the joys and terror of introducing two cats. We read a lot and asked our friends for advice. We did everything we thought would make the transition better. The day we finally let Kofi and the tiny cat meet each other, we were terrified. Surprisingly, they were fascinated with each other and a little confused. Whenever they hissed, we’d whisk them apart. I had a random Wednesday off of school for Yom Kippur, and I decided that this was the day they had to get over each other. I let the tiny cat upstairs for the first time, and monitored while they “met.” Again, I was surprised, as the tiny cat started playing and chased Kofi under the couch. She stayed squished under there while they batted at each other. I didn’t know what to do, so I texted Beth a photo. She said not to worry, it was normal, “though why is the big cat the one hiding?” Two hours later, they were exhausted and calmed down. They did, it seemed, get over each other.
Since then, our routine has changed to include the little grey cat. The two cats are inseparable. They eat together, often switching and re-switching plates. The grey cat even imitates Kofi. Kofi has been trained to sit, speak and stand on command. The tiny Chartreux cat, though naturally silent, has started up her little mew when Kofi does it. The grey cat even plays with the ferrets every night. And she plays fetch as well as any dog that I’ve seen. Kofi loves to look on and supervise. The milestones have been precious to Ian and me; first time eating together, first time sleeping in each other’s presence, first time leaving them out when we left.
— Ian Oland (@ianoland) September 26, 2015
This whole time, we’d been simply calling her “Grey Cat.” This was because she wasn’t going to stay with us; her real family could name her whatever they wanted. That’s even her official name with the vet. But I softened toward the 3-pound kitten, and toyed with the idea that we could at least name her. Gigi’s name comes from a site I found about words that don’t exist in English. Gigil is supposedly an Indonesian word that means “the irresistible urge to pinch something’s cheeks.” We loved it because she is pretty darn cute, and she has those characteristic smiling Chartreux cheeks. We can call her Gigi.
Most of our blessings have been surprises. Kofi came into our lives when we weren’t planning to add a kitty to our home zoo, but we fell in love with her on the spot while shopping for ferret supplies. She taught me how important it is to relax and she brings me joy every day. Gigi also came to us unintended. Gigi has shown me that change isn’t scary; it’s a blessing. It makes me okay to face changes that the future brings. Adding her has been hilarious (the thunderous sound of cats chasing each other) and terrifying (waking up to a kitten chewing on my toes, in the dark). It’s so fun to play with both cats and see them interact and grow.
We’ve updated our friends and followers on social media throughout this process, adamant that we were only fostering her. Taking care of her wouldn’t have been possible without the warm, kind people of Friends For Life Cat Rescue. Not only did they cover the medical expenses and advise us with how to introduce the cats, they came to our house to remove horribly gross ear mites and give distemper shots. They knew we were going to keep Gigi before we knew, and gave us the opportunity to see how it went before we made a big decision. The best part is that they are working all the time to help dozens of other sweet kitties in this area find the loving homes they deserve. They always need help with adoptions, volunteers, or donations. At the least, follow them on Facebook for ridiculously cute photos.
I know it sounds super cheesy, but Gigi really seemed like she wanted to be found, and that’s why I couldn’t say no to her. She seemed to be looking for nice people to help her, and honed in on us as her future family. I don’t know where her journey started before August of this year, but I sure know her story is permanently part of the Olands’ story.
And also: we are definitely done collecting animals now.
Maybe.
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