Thursday, November 10, 2011

Why am I always a sucker for another pretty face?

I've had them a few times...just one cat in my home...I think twice in my life.  I always called it a dream come true.  My feline companion would bond 100%, and I relished the idea of a cat focusing totally on me.  I always said one cat was better than two.  With two cats you're ignored at least 50% of the time, but with one you're ignored 0% of any one day.

Lopsided relationships don't turn me on anymore.  My furry soul mate lived in loneliness when I wasn't about, and with time this isolated fuzz ball began to remind me of a little human instead of the individual cat it was suppose to be.  Domestic cats really are all for themselves and themselves for themselves, if that bit of craziness makes any kind of sense to you.  They don't form packs.

Maybe communes of free sex, but never a pack with a leader.  They don't form complete families a male will practice euthanasia.  They will form a bond with another feline, a friendship so to speak; if their sun, moon, and planets are all aligned in the celestial sphere of the vernal equinox with the constellation of Pisces.  Otherwise, forget it.


My Michael was an only cat.  Renting in an old apartment building with steam heat, you know...radiators...I occasionally would catch a glimpse of this half grown grayish kitten in the boiler room in the basement when the water would quit heating and making steam, and I had to reset the equipment or suffer freezing my fanny off.  His owners band him from their apartment, and relegated him and his litter pan to a life in that noisy boiler room.

Several months later, just after the loneliest Christmas I ever spent in my entire young life, he came calling at my window sill and found himself a toasty warm apartment that was refreshingly quiet.  I swear...after a few months he was beginning to develop into a little human being.  All that was needed to complete the fantasy was to one midnight, after finishing shift work, open that front door and be greeted with a slight English accent rolling of his purring lips as he rubbed against my legs, and lovingly whispered "I've missed you tremendously, my sweet".  He was my little perfect.


Over a year later, when Bryon kitty quietly wiggled himself into my life...Michael had a tizzy fit and poor non-neutered Bryon was getting his balls battered left and right, until many weeks later Michael's sun, moon, and planets aligned themselves perfectly and saved poor Bryon's young life.  True buddies until Michael's passing, then Bryon, one month later...they were always best friends to each other.

Jesse happened onto the scene while Michael was in his old age, so Jesse never was an only kitty, although by the way he eventually treated all his roommates, he wasn't too keen on the buddy system except with me.  The short end of this extremely long point I'm making is both Michael and Jesse always spent much time with me, even though they had a houseful of too many other companions...they just weren't little humans any more...they were totally cats.  With luck, Andee may have his playmate at last, if Lacey has her way, and Andee can survive her wild kittenhood.

Zoe and Lacey don't know.  Zoe was becoming quite frazzled with Chloe always answering when Zoe was called.  She told me that if I didn't change that #$%*!# pipsqueak's name pronto, I was going to wake up in the morning with a face full of fang marks.  When Zoe speaks, one listens if they know what is good for themselves, so that little limping spitfire that has unabashedly taken over the whole household is now sporting the sweet name Lacey.  Zoe coughed up a fur ball in her honor, and puked in my shoe to show her approval.

Miss Lacey
Sweet, sweet, sweet Lacey...I figure if I say it a hundred times she will become sweet, sweet, sweet Lacey.  Actually she already is quite sugary sweet in her all-about-what-I-want ways.  Had completely forgotten how kittens sometimes love to use shoes for a scratching post, so my not so cheap sandals have chicken scratches all over the foot beds.  Finally found the hidden squirt bottle to curtail that death defying chewing of plugged in electrical cords.

Zoe's becoming a phantom of the night again, only seen when in a hissing frenzy with a kitten that doesn't know when to make a detour.  Zoe retreats to the spare bathroom to be fed, as Lacey thinks she's starving no matter how much she guzzles down multiple times a day.  Open three cans of food and she would pig out until she poofed out and exploded.  I can't even munch in peace without a barrage of complaints about me not sharing my eats.

Andee and Lacey

Andee was fairly used to her by the time she demanded to be set free to explore, so his hissing "back off" kept her out of his face; but she's diligently working on wearing him down into the perfect playmate.  Dustin?  Well, he's having to learn that Lacey's just like Zoe and Andee...she's NOT a dog toy.  And me...last night I had a little kitten sleeping by my head until morning light, and I'm loving every second of it.


  1. Sounds like you really enjoy your furry cat friends! I loved seeing their pictures here!

    Stopping by from Bloggers over 40!

  2. Makes me so sad to know you lost your Michael and Bryon. I know it happens but it still upsets me. I have 3 cats myself, Seamus, Misty, and Shadow. Somehow they make their peace with each other...or simply leave each other alone. The dog learns quickly, yes?

  3. Liked your tale of the furry felines... yes, they are the best little friends. I have 3 as you might know. Jake, Mary Louise and Jenny..
    all look different , all are different.
    hugs, BJ

  4. I always loved our cats. Yours seem very delightful.

  5. I have a Lacey too. She's my indoor kitty. She actually looks a lot like Bryon. Lacey doesn't like living with other cats either.

  6. Curious as to why you name your cats with "real" names like Michael, Byron and Jesse as opposed to "cute" names like Jinxy, Sarge or Sloth?

  7. Kipp - Hahahahaha!!! Let me see...Zoe would be Skitzo Babe, Andee would be Whimpy, Lacey would be Spitfire, and Dustin would be Poopsie.


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