Three months ago today, I went into the Williamson County Animal Shelter hoping to pick out a kitten after my Lucy had crossed the rainbow bridge 9 days earlier.

It was a bit overwhelming at first, as there are so many kittens and cats in need of good furr-ever homes. I actually took a few kittens out and played with them to see how friendly and playful they were.

I had it in my mind that I wanted the cat to purr when I picked it up, but none of the cats I looked at did that. Maybe they were nervous or shy, but none of them seemed overly friendly.

I had a little male tuxedo kitten picked out and ready to take home. He was in the carrier and all that was left was for me to sign the papers and he’d be mine. Or I’d be his. I’m still not sure how exactly that works.

That was when I heard the most heart-wrenching piteous mew. I turned around to see a little black paw reaching to me from a cage behind me. I saw this little tortie kitten begging me to take her home.

I went over to the cage and she reached out and stroked my hand. She was purring. I knew then and there she had picked me to be my next cat. The tuxedo kitten went back to his cage with his mates and was probably adopted later to another good home.

I found out that my little tortie had been found stranded on I-65 when she was rescued. To this day, I don’t know if she was alone. I don’t know if she was actually on the interstate or in the median between the two sides.

All I know is that she rescued me. She gave the love I had for Lucy a new place to go.

The old saying is still true. God does work in mysterious ways, but I’m learning that those ways always turn out way better than my ways and my plans ever could.

Here’s to what I hope will be at least 17 years with Peanut, my little tortie.