Today's post is brought to you by cats.
Feb. 2nd, 2010 11:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bunchofgrapesIf you don't like cats, run away now.
I am a cat owner. I like dogs, although my mother's dogs and my sister's dog haven't done much to impress me, but cats suit my lifestyle better. My first cat, Basil, was my best buddy. I didn't think I'd ever find a cat I could love as much as him but I found three.
Harry is an almost 7 yr old DSH brown and black tabby with short ears and little paws. He's 10lbs of solid, good-looking, sweet kitty goodness. When he had to spend time at the vet back in September, he charmed the hell out of Dr. W and her staff, enough that they all wanted to adopt him. But he's all mine. Or I should say, I'm all his. When I first saw him at the animal shelter, he was this teeny, tiny kitten, sitting by the glass, yeowling at me every time I walked by. I wanted an orange tabby but he was putting up such a fuss that I finally relented and asked to see him. That's when Harry turned on the charm. He curled up on my shoulder, revved up his motor right by my ear and a couple of minutes later, I filled out the adoption papers. He's really a dog at heart: very protective, loves to fetch, follows me everywhere, and more than once he's alerted me toTimmy in the well some sort of problem. Weird trivia fact: he once pooped a whole rubberband. One of those big, green ones. Oh, and he was not named after Harry Potter. He was named after Admiral Harriman Nelson from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea and given how he's in to everything, the name fits.
Sophie is a 6 yr old DLH whose mother was either a tabby cat who got knocked up by a white cat or a white cat who got knocked up by a tabby. It was her coloring that caught my attention the night I walked into a Petsmart and saw her huddled in the back of a cage. She was exactly what I had been looking for and the millisecond I saw her, I told the woman running the pet adoption that I wanted her. Sophie had a very rough start. It had been a very wet summer and she was found in a field, half drowned. I took her home and isolated her in the back bedroom until I could get her to the vet. She came with her own pets (fleas) and a respiratory infection and I didn't want her around Harry and my old kitty, Emma. I thought Sophie was going to be skittish and she is whenever someone comes to the door but I made a point of spending time with her and we developed a pretty strong bond. She's definitely her own cat but she's also very much my little girl. She's the one who cuddles, who hurls herself at a closed bathroom door, and in the mornings, we have to have our quality time or she gives me the stink eye. I have been late to work just about every day for the last 6+ years. Sophie factoid: she once put the smackdown on Harry so hard, his face ballooned up and he had to go to the vet. She is the warrior princess. And the WWE smackdown champion. She thinks boys are stupid.
Tucker is my baby. He's an almost 3 yr old, 17lb Maine Coon mix with classic tabby markings (bullseye on both sides). He's a big, ol' headbuttin' sweetheart of a cat and as a kitten, he had some serious hygiene issues. Let's just say poo and this long haired cat do not mix. Like Harry, he weaseled his way into my heart when I walked into a PetCo during a pet adoption one Saturday. He was the annoying kitten who would not shut up. Seriously, I walked by him twice thinking how obnoxious he was. And then I asked to hold him. He was one of those kittens you could cradle in your arms and the minute you did, he went to sleep. The rescue people wanted me to fill out an application and they said I couldn't have him until after they'd called my vet and done a background check. I asked them if they also wanted to call my last cat's cardiologist. They said I could pick him up the next day. Tucker has a fear of paper bags with handles. He once got his head stuck in the handles and the bag chased him around the house for a couple of laps. I didn't say he was a smart cat.
And there you have it. More than you ever wanted to know about my cats.
I am a cat owner. I like dogs, although my mother's dogs and my sister's dog haven't done much to impress me, but cats suit my lifestyle better. My first cat, Basil, was my best buddy. I didn't think I'd ever find a cat I could love as much as him but I found three.
Harry is an almost 7 yr old DSH brown and black tabby with short ears and little paws. He's 10lbs of solid, good-looking, sweet kitty goodness. When he had to spend time at the vet back in September, he charmed the hell out of Dr. W and her staff, enough that they all wanted to adopt him. But he's all mine. Or I should say, I'm all his. When I first saw him at the animal shelter, he was this teeny, tiny kitten, sitting by the glass, yeowling at me every time I walked by. I wanted an orange tabby but he was putting up such a fuss that I finally relented and asked to see him. That's when Harry turned on the charm. He curled up on my shoulder, revved up his motor right by my ear and a couple of minutes later, I filled out the adoption papers. He's really a dog at heart: very protective, loves to fetch, follows me everywhere, and more than once he's alerted me to
Sophie is a 6 yr old DLH whose mother was either a tabby cat who got knocked up by a white cat or a white cat who got knocked up by a tabby. It was her coloring that caught my attention the night I walked into a Petsmart and saw her huddled in the back of a cage. She was exactly what I had been looking for and the millisecond I saw her, I told the woman running the pet adoption that I wanted her. Sophie had a very rough start. It had been a very wet summer and she was found in a field, half drowned. I took her home and isolated her in the back bedroom until I could get her to the vet. She came with her own pets (fleas) and a respiratory infection and I didn't want her around Harry and my old kitty, Emma. I thought Sophie was going to be skittish and she is whenever someone comes to the door but I made a point of spending time with her and we developed a pretty strong bond. She's definitely her own cat but she's also very much my little girl. She's the one who cuddles, who hurls herself at a closed bathroom door, and in the mornings, we have to have our quality time or she gives me the stink eye. I have been late to work just about every day for the last 6+ years. Sophie factoid: she once put the smackdown on Harry so hard, his face ballooned up and he had to go to the vet. She is the warrior princess. And the WWE smackdown champion. She thinks boys are stupid.
Tucker is my baby. He's an almost 3 yr old, 17lb Maine Coon mix with classic tabby markings (bullseye on both sides). He's a big, ol' headbuttin' sweetheart of a cat and as a kitten, he had some serious hygiene issues. Let's just say poo and this long haired cat do not mix. Like Harry, he weaseled his way into my heart when I walked into a PetCo during a pet adoption one Saturday. He was the annoying kitten who would not shut up. Seriously, I walked by him twice thinking how obnoxious he was. And then I asked to hold him. He was one of those kittens you could cradle in your arms and the minute you did, he went to sleep. The rescue people wanted me to fill out an application and they said I couldn't have him until after they'd called my vet and done a background check. I asked them if they also wanted to call my last cat's cardiologist. They said I could pick him up the next day. Tucker has a fear of paper bags with handles. He once got his head stuck in the handles and the bag chased him around the house for a couple of laps. I didn't say he was a smart cat.
And there you have it. More than you ever wanted to know about my cats.
