Growing up with my dad I would have to say I was a dog person because he did not like cats. We had tons of dogs throughout my childhood and at one point I seriously thought about being anti-pet because he went overboard sometimes. We had a kennel of beagles, a seriously strange English Bull dog, and a hyperactive Dachshund. They were Dad’s but they were my and my two siblings’ responsibility. Those beagles pert near drove us crazy. And the other two were just icing on the cake.
We had many animals over the years that were just a little bit too much like my daddy. That is all I am going to say on that subject. But one year he actually brought home a puppy that would steal my heart his whole life. A better friend in an animal you could not find. His name was Max and he was a full blooded German Shepherd. He was my only friend for a time in my life when we moved to a new state in the middle of my high school years. He was as over protective as a jealous boyfriend and as sensitive as a lifelong pal. I loved him and will he will never lose his place in my heart.
Okay, so I grew up and to my recollection I did not deliberately purchase any animal at any time on my own. How I acquired pets was a mystery to me. People that I thought were friends and men who I thought actually cared about me brought these animals into my life with good intentions. I will never forget my first cat. I was approximately twenty- three when I was gifted a black and white kitten that I believe was raised under someone’s porch. And I had no idea what to do with her.
She was a bit on the wild side even as a kitten but somehow she had attached herself to me emotionally and spared me much of what she handed out to others. At first she really kind of won my heart because she was tiny and cute but then she started walking through my legs as I walked through the house and I ended up planting my face in the wall more than once. I suppose a real cat lover would be wise to these pit falls of having a kitten but alas I was ignorant.
I was living at the time with my brother fresh out of college and his roommate. Even though I was related to one of them and knew from whence he came they had all the signs of being the offspring of pigs. So I was delighted when my new little kitten reached out and gave them a good scratch from time to time. It was small compensation for me cleaning up after them so that I would not die from some rare pig disease.
My brother also owned a cat but for the life of me I can not understand why. He was far too busy to pay it any mind and he was not what you would call a cat person. This fellow was a very large lilac point Himalayan with big blue eyes and an even bigger meow that sounded something like a siren as he ran down the hall. I quickly befriended him just because I actually fed him on time and I think we sort of bonded with our conversations about what we thought about our roommates.
It may sound very cruel, immature, and a bit vindictive but I really sort of enjoyed the favoritism I got from my Himalayan buddy. The roomies had a habit of throwing their clothes on their bedroom floors and then once a week enticing me with large quantities of money to do their wash and make my way to the cleaners, which generally worked because they made a lot more money than I did at the time. They made a point of shutting their doors while they were away because every chance this cat got he went in and soiled their clothes. I on the other hand could leave my door wide open with nary a worry about an accident happening in my room. They could not understand why I was safe but my little buddy and I knew.
Being the amateur cat person that I was still brought about some mishaps and some doozies. I had to take my not so little kitten in to have some shots and decided to take in my buddy as well to see how he was fairing since I am sure it had been awhile. Now remember I told you that I had always been around dogs. Well, I took the cats out and put them in the car and off we went. No kennels, no boxes, no nothing. Just free styling in the car.
I was new to this huge city I was now living in and the vet I was going to just happened to be on one of the busiest streets there was. It was not a highway but it had four lanes on each side of the median. I just want you to picture it. For a while we did alright, outside of the loud siren noises coming out of my buddy and a lot of movement all over the car I thought we were doing great. Until…someone next to me blew their horn and the next thing I knew I had a large kitten on top of my head with one of her nails connected to my eyelid. To pull her off would mean I would have to rip my lid apart and to drive with her on my head meant that I was bouncing off the medians and swerving into other people’s lanes.
It was only by the grace of God that I made it to the clinic and was then able to back out her claw from my lid. Now can you picture me with two cats under my arms and blood trickling down my face as I enter the vet? And upon entering my Himalayan buddy suddenly must have realized where he was because he then bolted. I handed my oversized black and white kitten to the assistant and she took her back while I went on the hunt with another assistant.
While I was looking for my buddy I heard quite a bit of noise coming from the room where my kitty went. I wondered what the vet could possibly be doing to her. At that time I was looking in the room where they kept all the towels which were all white by the way and I saw two steel blue eyes peering through the folds. We finally got my buddy back.
When I went to exchange him for my kitty the vet came out looking a bit worse for the wear. She asked me where I got this kitty from and I told her that I believe she was a product of the underworld. She just looked at me and said that the black and white ones were the worst. I take it my baby did not play fair.
And if this experience was not enough for me to give up cats altogether believe it or not my kitty got out one day, just one day, and before long I found out she was with child. Something else I knew nothing about. I read all about it and decided to make her up a nice place to have her kittens in my closet. But when the time actually came she had other ideas, she decided on my bed. Yep, my bed. I kept moving her but she kept coming back and all the while making the most painful sound. Just when I was about to call the vet she started having her kittens and they came in bits and pieces. After final count we were at eight.
I kid you not, seriously, within days those kittens were hissing and spitting and raising up their backs and lashing out. They clawed everything in sight and climbed up the curtains. I thought I was going to lose my mind. When it was time that they could leave momma I was relieved and I think she might have been too in all honesty. But I could not give them away because they came out like any kittens from a momma born in the underworld. It took me forever to find them homes. She was a one owner cat and that was all there was to it.
My Himalayan buddy became my watch dog over time. My roomies traveled quite a bit and when they were gone if anyone suspicious came around the house he was in the window doing his siren thing warding them off. If the doorbell rang and I was in the back of the house listening to tunes and did not hear it he came running down the hall calling out to me in that lovely tone that only he could make. It somehow made me feel secure knowing that I had both my kitties there with me. She could smack them and he could blow their eardrums out and I was safe.
This post is contributed by Christine Maddox. Currently she is pursuing her Master’s degree from University of Texas as well as blogging for 4nannies. She loves to write anything related to parenting, kids, nanny care etc. She can be reached via email at: christine.4nannies @ gmail.com.