I may have already told you a version of this story, but stick with me here, it’s about to get weird.
We had put down both of our cats, Emma and Clementine, in about a six-month period. We loved them both very much and this was the first time for both of us of being grown-ups and having to go through that. Mr. Man was very adamant that he didn’t want any more pets. I wasn’t so sure, but I wasn’t in a hurry.
Anyway, one weekend when I was traveling up to go to the ballet with my mom and sister, I was sitting on the airplane, flipping through Vogue and daydreaming. There was a story about the private club in London, Annabel’s, which was going through this fantastic renovation. The photo of the dining room that was all done in this fantastic floral pattern really caught my eye. And I thought to myself, Anabel (with one “n”) would be a nice name for a cat.
As I indulged in this daydream, it got really specific: I would get a kitten that looked like a little Clementine (brown tabby Maine Coon). I would name her Clementine II and call her Tutu for short. Then, I would get another fluffy, brown tabby kitten, but this one would have some white on her. I would name her Anabel and call her Belly for short. They would be sisters and grow up together and get along and we would all live happily ever after.
I was so happy about my plan! I put in my order with my animal rescue friend because I knew that she would have access to all sorts of wonderful kittens and also because I knew that I would be better able to stick to my plan if I wasn’t going kitten shopping myself.
It was around four months later when she sent me a photo of this precious little tabby/white kitten with the sweetest little booboo face. It was my Anabel! She had a tabby littermate, but he was a boy. Mr. Man had already put the kybosh on naming a cat Clementine II, so I wasn’t that worried that he didn’t look too much like Clementine. The rest is history.
Ok, so here is the weird part: maybe three or four weeks later, after I had brought Anabel and Sally home and everyone was all settled in, I was changing purses and I pulled out my old make-up bag. I had bought this thing probably at least three years ago, maybe longer. It had Anabel’s face on it! Ok, not EXACTLY, but close enough. I hadn’t really used it much, certainly not recently. It was a very weird moment. Was I subconsciously manifesting kittens based on objects that I already had around me? Or was it just a coincidence?
Is there a moral to this story? Be careful what you bring into your life? Little things can lead to bigger things? Only buy make-up bags with cute kittens on them? It’s hard to say…