Just thinking about cats makes me happy.
I can waste hours watching those stupid youtube videos about cats. I once watched the same video of a little orange kitten jumping from a table and greatly under estimating how far of a jump the banister bar was from him like 3 dozen times in a row. And I died every time. Or the video of the two kittens that have some narcoleptic problem and turn stiff as a board and fall over every 30 seconds, no matter what they are doing...hilarious. How about the really fat cat that gets a running start on the linoleum floor and throws himself into an open box, so that his head and his two front legs are sticking out one end of the box, and his back legs and tail the other end of the box? What will those nutty Korean cats think up next? There's seriously something about Korean cats. They're true comedians.
I was born into this wacky world a cat person. When I was 7 years old my parents had the great idea that we needed to have a pet. We collectively decided a cat would suit us perfectly, so off we went to the North Shore Animal League to get our very own kitty face.
Neither of my parents had ever had a cat of their own, which was obvious, even to a 7 year old. When we were driving home and decided to let our new little guy, Tyler, out of his carrier box to roam the car, it became crystal clear that we had a lot to learn about these furry little creatures. There is nothing more disconcerting than being in a car with a cat trying to make a bed between the break pedal and the floor of the car. This was our first very important lesson in cat ownership.
We've had many cats since. I'm a bit reluctant to really get into all of the details of our history with cats, not because we've done anything wrong, but because having cats, and pets in general, is a bit of a crap shoot. Our first cat, Tyler, moved down the street and into someone else's house. Besides the fact that it was home to Tyler's best friend in the whole hood, Garfield, the house also happened to have a very inviting cat door and better food to boot. I tell you this with complete confidence that Tyler did in fact move down the street, this wasn't some lie that my parents told my brother and I as a means of letting us down easily about the cat passing away. He legitimately took his life into his own paws and decided to try something new. 34 Vineyard Road wasn't cutting it for him anymore. He moved on. When Garfield got hit by a car ten years ago, Tyler decided to get the hell out of dodge, so he packed his little cat belongings and scampered off into the sunset, most likely settling for a split level ranch with a comfy couch a few streets over. He was a good looking cat with a solid personality. Not too friendly, but nice enough to muscle his way into your bed. Sound familiar ladies? Typical man cat. When he decided to move in on your life, there was just no stopping him. And when he was done, gone, like the wind he blew in with. Its now been 18 years since we first brought him to the neighborhood. Tyler has likely moved onto the big cat bed in the sky.
We've had cats disappear. We've had unusual and unexpected illnesses shake the very foundation of our cat lives. We have slaved for our cats (well, my Mom did at least). We've put cats down, too. All told we've had 9 little lives walk through our doors over the years. Many have thrived, but some were just not meant for this world. I do not think that this turn over of cats is at all a poor reflection of the type of pet owners we are. We just like to give our animals all the freedoms they deserve, and needless to say, our quiet residential street seems to have become busier over the years. Cat doors and an out door world to play in, plenty of food, a plethora of couches, cat beds and people beds to sleep in...our cats have it good. Plus, we adore the shit out of them. If I were a cat, I'd want to live at my parents house.
It is important that I note now that I am very much allergic to cats. Yes, this is where this blog post goes from happy shining love fest to a sadder, more dark place. I love animals, cats in particular, but I love dogs, too. Well not all dogs. Actually not even most dogs. But I will give them all a shot. They have one chance with me. And if they mess that chance up, it is up to them to redeem themselves and resolve the conflict between the two of us. I've learned that dogs are really good at being the bigger person, as I've had several dogs approach me to try and patch up a relationship that may have gotten off on the wrong foot. I most recently made amends with my friends dog Dutch, and its because he wanted to. We're cool now.
Anyway...
So I'm allergic to cats. This sucks so fucking much that it makes me question my very worth. What good am I, crazy cat loving fool, if I can't even be around them? How am I ever going to own a fleet of cats? How am I ever going to live up to my own expectations of having too many cats to function? Of waking up in a sea of kittens, on the regular? The best dream I ever had involved me discovering an underground rail road of cats, and I lead them to freedom. Which happened to be at my house. I had another dream that my best friend gave birth to a cat baby that looked just like her. It was so awesome.
I'm not so allergic that I puff up and become unrecognizable just because I walked into a house that has cats, but it can really fuck up my day and makes hanging out in peoples houses when I don't have allergy medicine with my quite miserable. And you know what is terrible about allergy medication? That shit is expensive. Really, really expensive. So not only am I allergic to cats, but I have to pay for it? Come on, man. When I go home, especially because I'm not used to them, I sleep like shit. And god help me if I pet the wrong cat and touch my face. But I persevere. Because I love cats. And aint no histamines are gonna get between me and my favorite animal. Cats rule.
So I began this post not purely because I wanted to talk about my love for cats, but because I am having a very special guest stay at my house in two weeks time. For five magnificent, fun filled magical days, we will be sharing our humble little condo with Mons. Mons belongs to my best friend, who happens to be skipping town for a few days. And it might seem a bit outrageous for a person to drop off a cat at some else's place...cats are usually so self sufficient. Everyone knows that all you have to do is put out an enormous bowl of food with like 12 bowls of water scattered around the house, leave out a clean litter box and you're good to go. All cats do is sleep anyway they won't even notice you left.
But not this cat. This cat is a high maintenance little guy.
Mons is a special guy for many reasons. My most favorite special thing about Mons though is that I AM NOT ALLERGIC TO HIM. At least not really. At least not as much as I am to most other cats...and I tend to get used to him really quickly. He's the only cat that I can thrust my face into the belly of and not emerge resembling the elephant man with a serious cold afterwards. Mons is special for another reason, too...he has Renal Failure. Its when the kidneys don't filter properly and all of the toxins that usually flush out the kidneys through urination begin to build up in other places. Way, way back, in the year 2007, Aimee and I came back up to Boston after being out of town for a few days, to discover a very sick and frail shell of a cat. We immediately brought him to the vet where it was advised that Aimee put the little guy down. Many people probably would have followed to vet's advice, because here's the alternative...every day Aimee, or someone, has to give this cat a shot of water. As in, stick a cat with a needle and be able to hold it in them long enough to allow such and such amount of water to go through a fairly slow dripping IV tube...it takes about 10 minutes. And do this every day, for ever and ever, or face the consequence of your animal getting really sick again. Ugh. Seriously?
It seems like a lot of work, and well, it is. I've given the shot to him a bunch of times, and its not that hard, you just need to have the gumption to calmly stick a needle into a cat. And if it were any other cat, I'd laugh and say good luck. But Mons is special. He's a Lumpy McLumperton. The most mellow high maintenance cat in the world. Which is great, because it means I get a sick cat for five days. Life does not get much better than this!
So clearly, I'm very excited about cat sitting.
Here's the lumplet!
Any good cat stories? I know a bunch of you know the little man personally, he's the type of cat you know a good story about. Feel free to share!
I can waste hours watching those stupid youtube videos about cats. I once watched the same video of a little orange kitten jumping from a table and greatly under estimating how far of a jump the banister bar was from him like 3 dozen times in a row. And I died every time. Or the video of the two kittens that have some narcoleptic problem and turn stiff as a board and fall over every 30 seconds, no matter what they are doing...hilarious. How about the really fat cat that gets a running start on the linoleum floor and throws himself into an open box, so that his head and his two front legs are sticking out one end of the box, and his back legs and tail the other end of the box? What will those nutty Korean cats think up next? There's seriously something about Korean cats. They're true comedians.
I was born into this wacky world a cat person. When I was 7 years old my parents had the great idea that we needed to have a pet. We collectively decided a cat would suit us perfectly, so off we went to the North Shore Animal League to get our very own kitty face.
Neither of my parents had ever had a cat of their own, which was obvious, even to a 7 year old. When we were driving home and decided to let our new little guy, Tyler, out of his carrier box to roam the car, it became crystal clear that we had a lot to learn about these furry little creatures. There is nothing more disconcerting than being in a car with a cat trying to make a bed between the break pedal and the floor of the car. This was our first very important lesson in cat ownership.
We've had many cats since. I'm a bit reluctant to really get into all of the details of our history with cats, not because we've done anything wrong, but because having cats, and pets in general, is a bit of a crap shoot. Our first cat, Tyler, moved down the street and into someone else's house. Besides the fact that it was home to Tyler's best friend in the whole hood, Garfield, the house also happened to have a very inviting cat door and better food to boot. I tell you this with complete confidence that Tyler did in fact move down the street, this wasn't some lie that my parents told my brother and I as a means of letting us down easily about the cat passing away. He legitimately took his life into his own paws and decided to try something new. 34 Vineyard Road wasn't cutting it for him anymore. He moved on. When Garfield got hit by a car ten years ago, Tyler decided to get the hell out of dodge, so he packed his little cat belongings and scampered off into the sunset, most likely settling for a split level ranch with a comfy couch a few streets over. He was a good looking cat with a solid personality. Not too friendly, but nice enough to muscle his way into your bed. Sound familiar ladies? Typical man cat. When he decided to move in on your life, there was just no stopping him. And when he was done, gone, like the wind he blew in with. Its now been 18 years since we first brought him to the neighborhood. Tyler has likely moved onto the big cat bed in the sky.
We've had cats disappear. We've had unusual and unexpected illnesses shake the very foundation of our cat lives. We have slaved for our cats (well, my Mom did at least). We've put cats down, too. All told we've had 9 little lives walk through our doors over the years. Many have thrived, but some were just not meant for this world. I do not think that this turn over of cats is at all a poor reflection of the type of pet owners we are. We just like to give our animals all the freedoms they deserve, and needless to say, our quiet residential street seems to have become busier over the years. Cat doors and an out door world to play in, plenty of food, a plethora of couches, cat beds and people beds to sleep in...our cats have it good. Plus, we adore the shit out of them. If I were a cat, I'd want to live at my parents house.
It is important that I note now that I am very much allergic to cats. Yes, this is where this blog post goes from happy shining love fest to a sadder, more dark place. I love animals, cats in particular, but I love dogs, too. Well not all dogs. Actually not even most dogs. But I will give them all a shot. They have one chance with me. And if they mess that chance up, it is up to them to redeem themselves and resolve the conflict between the two of us. I've learned that dogs are really good at being the bigger person, as I've had several dogs approach me to try and patch up a relationship that may have gotten off on the wrong foot. I most recently made amends with my friends dog Dutch, and its because he wanted to. We're cool now.
Anyway...
So I'm allergic to cats. This sucks so fucking much that it makes me question my very worth. What good am I, crazy cat loving fool, if I can't even be around them? How am I ever going to own a fleet of cats? How am I ever going to live up to my own expectations of having too many cats to function? Of waking up in a sea of kittens, on the regular? The best dream I ever had involved me discovering an underground rail road of cats, and I lead them to freedom. Which happened to be at my house. I had another dream that my best friend gave birth to a cat baby that looked just like her. It was so awesome.
I'm not so allergic that I puff up and become unrecognizable just because I walked into a house that has cats, but it can really fuck up my day and makes hanging out in peoples houses when I don't have allergy medicine with my quite miserable. And you know what is terrible about allergy medication? That shit is expensive. Really, really expensive. So not only am I allergic to cats, but I have to pay for it? Come on, man. When I go home, especially because I'm not used to them, I sleep like shit. And god help me if I pet the wrong cat and touch my face. But I persevere. Because I love cats. And aint no histamines are gonna get between me and my favorite animal. Cats rule.
So I began this post not purely because I wanted to talk about my love for cats, but because I am having a very special guest stay at my house in two weeks time. For five magnificent, fun filled magical days, we will be sharing our humble little condo with Mons. Mons belongs to my best friend, who happens to be skipping town for a few days. And it might seem a bit outrageous for a person to drop off a cat at some else's place...cats are usually so self sufficient. Everyone knows that all you have to do is put out an enormous bowl of food with like 12 bowls of water scattered around the house, leave out a clean litter box and you're good to go. All cats do is sleep anyway they won't even notice you left.
But not this cat. This cat is a high maintenance little guy.
Mons is a special guy for many reasons. My most favorite special thing about Mons though is that I AM NOT ALLERGIC TO HIM. At least not really. At least not as much as I am to most other cats...and I tend to get used to him really quickly. He's the only cat that I can thrust my face into the belly of and not emerge resembling the elephant man with a serious cold afterwards. Mons is special for another reason, too...he has Renal Failure. Its when the kidneys don't filter properly and all of the toxins that usually flush out the kidneys through urination begin to build up in other places. Way, way back, in the year 2007, Aimee and I came back up to Boston after being out of town for a few days, to discover a very sick and frail shell of a cat. We immediately brought him to the vet where it was advised that Aimee put the little guy down. Many people probably would have followed to vet's advice, because here's the alternative...every day Aimee, or someone, has to give this cat a shot of water. As in, stick a cat with a needle and be able to hold it in them long enough to allow such and such amount of water to go through a fairly slow dripping IV tube...it takes about 10 minutes. And do this every day, for ever and ever, or face the consequence of your animal getting really sick again. Ugh. Seriously?
It seems like a lot of work, and well, it is. I've given the shot to him a bunch of times, and its not that hard, you just need to have the gumption to calmly stick a needle into a cat. And if it were any other cat, I'd laugh and say good luck. But Mons is special. He's a Lumpy McLumperton. The most mellow high maintenance cat in the world. Which is great, because it means I get a sick cat for five days. Life does not get much better than this!
So clearly, I'm very excited about cat sitting.
Here's the lumplet!
Any good cat stories? I know a bunch of you know the little man personally, he's the type of cat you know a good story about. Feel free to share!
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