I may have mentioned it, you know, once or twice, that I have cats whom I am pretty crazy about. To me, they’re more like roomies than pets. Not even like children because I don’t see them as these small helpless creatures that I have to take care of, but rather like two ladies who are sharing this space with me. They have their own personalities and lives and I like to think they’ve chosen to live with me as much as I chose them.
Anyway, I don’t think they get enough mention in this blog. So today, I am introducing Caturday! Every Saturday, I plan to post something about them. A picture, a story, just a small update how they’re doing. Maybe I’ll have ‘guests appearances’ from the many felines in the neighborhood. We’ll see…
I figured I’ll start by introducing the ladies, starting with my oldest roomy, Sally.
When I was sixteen, my mother finally caved and said we’d get a cat. Up till then, we had rabbits, hamsters, birds…you name it. But I’d always wanted a more independent pet, not just one you look at going about its own business in its cage. A dog was out of the question which I found very upsetting at the time. Cats had never really been in my focus but then my mom started saying that maybe we should get a cat. It wasn’t more than a vague idea until one day, we got a call from a family friend who said that her neighbor – who was involved with a cat rescue place – had a Persian cat that she desperately needed a new home for. And that’s how we got our first cat, a black and white Persian tomcat that looked like he had a freaky white mustache. We got him a day after I broke up with my first boyfriend and at the time, I clung to that cat like he was the best friend I’d ever have. That’s how I became a cat person.
So, when I moved into my own flat seven years later, before I even knew which colors my walls would be, I knew I’d find feline roommates. The day I moved in, I went to the local rescue shelter to look for a new friend. And that’s how I met Jack and Sally. Originally, to my shame, I was crazy about Jack who was a black long-haired Persian mix. His fur was gorgeous and I kept trying to pet him but he was indifferent about me. Sally, on the other hand, was obsessed with me from the first second. She kept rubbing against me and meowing, as if she was begging me to take her home. And I did.
On our first night together, a water pipe broke in the flat above, flooding my kitchen and forcing me to pack up my things and my new friends and move back in with my mother for a few weeks. During that time, Jack and Sally grew apart as she became more and more obsessed with me and Jack grew particularly fond of my mom. By the time I moved back, I only took Sally with me. And we became the best of friends.
If you look at her, she isn’t special in any way. She’s just this brown and white tabby, regular build, maybe a little small, and one eye dull from a former injury. But spend an hour with her and you’ll find she’s the friendliest, cuddliest, most loyal cat in the world. She never gets angry or will hiss at you. Admittedly, playing with her leaves me with scratches all over the place, but that is because she is unable to draw her claws back in. It’s actually quite cute because it sounds like she’s wearing tiny heels when she’s walking around my wooden floors. She used to be so playful and hyper but now that she’s seven, she’s calmed down a lot. There are still moments when I fear she’ll take this place apart but mostly, she just likes to sleep, cuddle and eat. And eat she will. Anything and everything. Lately, I caught her eating cherries. Cherries!!
So that’s Sally, who’s probably my best friend in the world.