So, you’re thinking about a Russian Blue cat in Pittsburgh, huh? Yeah, I went down that road. Thought it’d be simple, you know? Get a nice, quiet, classy cat. That was the dream when I first landed here, feeling a bit out of sorts in a new city.
My Grand Plan
I had this picture in my head: me, my new Pittsburgh apartment, and this sleek, grey shadow gracefully moving about. companionship, you know? Something to make the place feel more like home. I started looking online, full of hope. Typed in all the keywords: “Russian Blue Pittsburgh,” “Russian Blue kittens PA,” the whole shebang.
And that’s where the fun began. Or, well, the opposite of fun.
First, it was the websites. Some looked like they hadn’t been updated since 2005. Others were asking for deposits that made my eyes water, even before I saw a whisker of a cat. I sent a few emails, made a few calls. Got a lot of “we have a waiting list a mile long” or “check back in six months.” Six months! I was hoping for a cat, not a future mythical creature.
The Shelter Saga
Then I thought, okay, maybe a breeder isn’t the way. I’ll check the shelters. Good karma, right? So, I visited a few places. And man, that was an experience. Overwhelming, mostly. So many cats, so many stories. And every time I asked about Russian Blues or even cats that looked a bit like them, I’d get this look. Like I was asking for a unicorn.
- One place, they just kind of shrugged.
- Another, they tried to push this enormous orange tabby on me. Nice cat, sure, but not exactly what I had in mind.
- I started to feel like I was on some impossible quest.
It wasn’t just about the cat anymore. It felt like everything in Pittsburgh was a bit harder than I expected. Finding a good coffee shop, figuring out the bus routes, even just trying to meet people. This cat hunt just became another thing on the list of “stuff that’s surprisingly complicated.”
What Happened Next
I spent weeks, maybe a couple of months, on this. My browser history was just a mess of cat profiles and breeder pages that all started to look the same. I even drove out to some place an hour away because someone thought they had a cat that might have some Russian Blue in it. Turned out to be a very friendly, very grey, but very much not a Russian Blue cat. Sweet, but again, the disappointment was real.
You know what I ended up doing? One Saturday, I was just walking through my neighborhood, feeling a bit fed up with the whole cat thing, and I passed this little pet supply store. They had a sign in the window: “Local foster kittens need cuddles!” Not Russian Blues, just… kittens.
I went in. And there was this little black and white furball, causing absolute chaos in a playpen. Nothing like the elegant, reserved Russian Blue I’d imagined. This thing was a tiny tornado. And somehow, that just felt right. All that planning, all that specific searching, and I ended up with the complete opposite.
So, yeah, that Russian Blue cat in Pittsburgh? I guess they’re out there. Maybe. But my search for one took me on a completely different path. Sometimes you look for one thing, and the city, or just life, gives you something else entirely. And you know what? My little chaos monster is pretty great. Still no sleek grey shadow, but my apartment definitely feels like home now.
