Britt Smith & Onyx
Onyx is my rock. That is both a hilarious pun and a metaphorically true statement. I adopted her almost seven years ago, a day or so after moving from my hometown of San José to Philadelphia. I had lived in the same twentyish mile-radius for my first twentyish years of life, but after finishing my undergrad, I was struggling to find stability in the Bay Area. I packed my bags, six of them, and flew nearly three thousand miles to a city I didn’t know anyone in and had only visited once previously; a whirlwind trip that included two job interviews and picking up the keys for the apartment I had leased sight-unseen.
Near the top of my moving-across-the-country to-do list: adopt a cat. Growing up, my family had two cats, each with wildly different personalities but both treasured presences. My hope was, in adopting my own, the cat and I could grow together. But it was January; an uncharacteristically large snowstorm was barreling toward the mid-Atlantic. The city was bracing for an impending shutdown while I raced through every aisle at IKEA, Target, and Petsmart to try and make my new space feel welcoming before inviting in a new feline friend. That first night in my new city, I settled into bed. The radiators whirred while I curled up with my computer and scrolled through adoption sites, eventually stumbling upon EASEL Animal Rescue League.
“In some cultures, black cats get a bad rep, but I consider myself fortunate for every coincidence that led to our meeting and each stroke of luck we’ve experienced along the way.”
As I pulled up to the shelter, dark, billowing clouds were racing across the sky. Walking in, I scanned the kennels, most filled with sleeping cats, except for one. Bright, green eyes were staring back into mine. I stepped closer, and she did too, sniffing at the metal separating us, steadily holding her curious gaze. I read the tag on her kennel, Onyx, three mo., and then back at the four-or-so-pound fluff ball who hadn’t entirely made up her mind about me. Coincidentally I knew a bit about onyx, the mineral. I was freelancing for a metaphysical shop and had done a content series on the spiritual benefits of popular crystals. Onyx is believed to have protective qualities, helps manifest strength, and fosters emotional growth. Opening the kennel door, I slowly put out my hand, knowing very well that this wasn’t only my decision to make. Onyx sniffed my finger and rubbed her face against my hand. A brush with luck.
I asked for an application so we could make things official. While filling out the forms, making my case to become Onyx’s person, the shelter staff said it would take a few days to check my references before I could bring her home. The problem was I didn’t really have a few days—my parents, visiting with a rental car and graciously drove me to this shelter, would be flying back to California. Luckily, the shelter staff understood and called my landlord and references on the spot while I watched Onyx in her kennel, quickly tuck into an even smaller orb and slowly blink back at me.
In some cultures, black cats get a bad rep, but I consider myself fortunate for every coincidence that led to our meeting and each stroke of luck we’ve experienced along the way. While I’ve given her shelter, she’s given me structure and a sense of stability. Whenever I feel overwhelmed or homesick, I feel her forehead nudge me, reminding me that we have each other, and there’s no time like the present… to toss her a catnip-filled toy, or refill her food bowl.
Britt Smith diligently manages Onyx's online presence, while also managing brands for businesses big and small.