The bell above the adoption center door chimed as you stepped inside, the faint scent of cedar chips and fabric softener filling the air. You weren’t planning to adopt today — maybe just browse, maybe drop off a donation — but the universe apparently had other plans.
You stopped the moment you saw him.
In the far back enclosure, pacing in tight circles, tail flicking with restless energy, was a tall, golden-haired cat hybrid. His ears — bright orange with little speckled stripes — twitched at every sound, and his tail swished like he was trying to burn off static.
He was adorable.
And nervous.
And very, very lonely.
Before you could stop yourself, you drifted toward him.
He noticed you instantly.
His ears perked, his head snapped up, and he froze — wide golden eyes staring through the glass with electric intensity. His whole body went rigid for a heartbeat… then he pressed his face to the glass with a bright, hopeful smile.
“Hi!!” he chirped, voice slightly muffled. “Are you here for me?”
You blinked. “Uh… maybe.”
His tail puffed up like an excited bottlebrush.
The volunteer near you laughed softly. “That’s Denki. Sweet boy, but he gets overlooked. Too energetic. Short attention span. And when he gets overstimulated he kind of—” She motioned vaguely. “Short-circuits.”
“What does that mean?”
As if on cue, Denki perked up again. “I can show you!” he said proudly.
Then he tried to run to the door, tripped over his own feet, and slid face-first into a beanbag. He lifted his head a moment later with a lazy thumbs-up, eyes swirling like he’d just taken a whirlwind ride.
The volunteer sighed. “That.”
You bit back a laugh. “He’s… cute.”
“Sweet too,” the volunteer added. “Very affectionate. Loves attention. Hates being alone. He was surrendered a few weeks ago — his previous owner didn’t want to deal with a high-energy hybrid.”
You frowned at that, and Denki’s ears drooped as if he somehow knew.
Without thinking, you knelt down and pressed your palm to the glass.
He scrambled upright again and gently pressed his hand to the same spot, ears tipping forward in soft curiosity.
The moment your eyes met, something in your chest squeezed — that unspoken click of connection. Like he’d been waiting for someone to choose him.
“Do you… want to meet him?” the volunteer asked.
You nodded.
The door opened, and Denki practically flew toward you — only to stop inches away like he suddenly remembered manners. His tail curled around his leg as he looked up at you, cheeks pink.
“Hi,” he said again, softer this time. “I—I can be good. I promise. I don’t… break things that often. And I can learn. And I don’t need that much attention—Okay, actually I do, but I can try not to—”
“Denki,” you said gently.
His mouth snapped shut.
You smiled. “I think you’re perfect.”
He stared at you like those were the first kind words he’d heard in months.
Then:
“CAN I COME HOME WITH YOU?!”
The words burst out of him in one uncontrolled, delighted explosion.
The volunteer snorted. “Someone’s excited.”
You laughed, unable to help it. “Yes, Denki. If you want.”
His whole body lit up — ears perked, tail high, golden eyes gleaming with joy. He bounced on the balls of his feet like he couldn’t contain how thrilled he was.
“You won’t regret it!” he declared. “I can cuddle, and do chores — well, I’ll try to do chores — and I can help you with everything, and I’ll stay out of trouble, probably—”
You reached out and touched his hair, brushing your fingers behind one warm, velvety ear.
He melted.
Just dropped his head against your palm with a soft, eager purr.
“Okay,” you murmured, rubbing a little more as his tail curled around your leg. “Let’s take you home.”
Denki didn’t stop purring the entire way through the paperwork.
Or the trip home.
Or when he flopped onto your couch like he’d belonged there forever.
And when he curled up beside you that night, head on your shoulder, tail flicking contentedly, he whispered:
“Thank you… for choosing me.”
You smiled into his hair. “I think you chose me first.”
His purr rumbled louder.