06 December 2007
I never write about my cats.
me, who has had cats my entire life, has never posted anything more than a sentence (if that) about my cats, Asha & Cyrus.
There is a blog, Minnesota Meow and it sort of made me feel as though I was a crappy cat owner as I realized I had not once blogged about my cats. so, I'm going to remedy this and blog about all of them. sorry to bore you, but I must...here goes.
my earliest memory ever is standing in the kitchen of a neighbor about 4 doors down from my childhood home. I'm admiring a newly acquired orange and white kitten. Then flash to my dad scolding me in my bedroom for running off without telling him. I couldn't have been three yet; he must have been terrified. He has no memory of this incident, but it is crystal clear for me. I can still see that kitten.
We always have had cats. For a long time they were always all black (Shadow, Rainbow & Rascall) or all white (Whitey & Popcorn). But then Popcorn had kittens and we kept one, Pudding, who was black and white. This was during my 1st grade year. Pudding was the best cat ever and he lived to be about 10. One night he went outside and never came back. This is what cats do when they die, I'm told, they just go away to be alone. It's very private for them.
Popcorn disappeared about a year after Pudding's litter was born. We acquired Stevie shortly thereafter to fill the void. She was rescued from a 2nd grade classmate of mine who claimed her stepdad hated cats & threw Stevie down the stairs when she acted like a cat. Stevie lived to be about 20, she only died about 2 years ago. She was a petite little tabby who was an expert hunter & had many litters of kittens through the years (contributing nicely to the overpopulation of cats and homeless pets problem), including Pom Pom who was born when I was about 8.
Pom Pom was super skittish. When he was only a few months old he was locked in neighbors garage for a week never to be the same. He lived to be about 18. This was sort of torturous for my mother who was not all that fond of Pom Pom. In his later years he developed a terrible habit of peeing in her closet thus causing his popularity to wane. When I came home from college, I brought Pom Pom to the vet to be put down (it's hard to give away a cat who pees inappropriately). He was quite healthy, he just couldn't shake the habit of peeing in my mother's closet. The vet (who was definition of The Crazy Cat Lady) was appalled and refused to put down a cat of such "strong & healthy stock", she then lectured me for not taking him in as he was originally my cat. I agreed, but explained that I had acquired two cats of my own in my adulthood and resided in a 500 square foot studio apartment. Crazy Cat Lady saw none of this and sent me on my way with Pom Pom who was a little freaked out, but alive, and me trying to find the words to share with my mother. Pom Pom disappeared about 2 years later.
I found Asha at the Humane Society in Tacoma, Wa in 2000 while I was in college. She came with the name "Ghosty" and was about 6 months old. Her first night with me she climbed beneath the covers and laid on her back with her head on the pillow. Asha---->
Cyrus came into the picture shortly after I moved back to Minneapolis in 2001. I needed company for Asha so I headed to the Minnesota Valley Humane Society. He was pretty young (3 months) and quite shy.
My planned companionship for the two cats works well. Though Asha kicks Cyrus' ass on a regular basis, she spends more time grooming him and napping with him. And I couldn't imagine our house without them.