We got these two cats at the humane society: Sweetie Cat and Mr. Kitty. How we ended up getting two was that we went to get one, and this really cute cat was in a cage with a really freaky looking mutant cat. The lady working at the Humane Society said,
"These two are best friends. They need to be adopted together. You'll only have to pay the adoption fee on one, though."
Just then, the cute one hissed at her best friend.
"Silly kitty," said the lady working there. Was there a hint of desperation in her voice? She picked up the cute one and shoved her in my arms. The cute on purred. The freaky one cowered in a corner of the cage.
We adopted them both. Sweetie was the cute one. Mr. Kitty was the freaky looking one. He had extra digits on his paws, and discolored fangs.
We loved them both, in the end, but they never really acted like they liked each other. The sparred a lot, and occasionally sat next to each other on the couch, with their butts facing each other. I figured that was just how cats were. They don't show a lot of affection. Sweetie seemed to just barely tolerate Mr. Kitty, and Mr. Kitty got along with anyone and everyone. He was more like a dog in many ways.
Fast forward twelve years: we've now adopted another set of "best friends". These two cats chase each other around, sit together, play together, and even give each other long baths on the couch. They sleep together sometimes, cuddling like teenage lovers. They are truly best friends.
Go back in time again to when Mr. Kitty died. Sweetie mourned him for about fifteen minutes, and then she was perfectly fine being an only cat. Actually, who am I kidding? She was elated!
It kind of begs the question: did they even know each other? Or did the no kill Humane Society shelter just really need to get rid of a weird looking cat, so they shoved him into a cage with a really cute cat, labeling them "best friends"?
It's funny how fate plays with our lives sometimes.