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cynthiamarie -> RE: How many cats do you own? (10/18/2006 2:01:42 PM)
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I have 7 cats.
I had had 2 cats, an all black petite female and a mostly gray female who had had spinal injury. Lady lived for 3 years before passing away from congestive heart failure, and a friend of mine became suicidal over her loss. We had shared custody of the cat. Anyway, Angel was grieving and lost and so was Steve, so I went to the no kill cat shelter to adopt another kitten...supposedly for Angel but really for Steve...and ended up coming home with two. I ended up keeping both because when Steve finally got on SSI and could get a place of his own, he didn't want to separate the cats. The new additions were both all black. *I ran over a black kitten one night years before; it had been sleeping in the road in the rain and I didn't know until the last second that it wasn't road debris, when suddenly it looked up at me. Left me with a soft protective spot for black kitties.*
Trouble had been a kitten trapped from a stable feral cat colony. She's a spooky little girl who earns her name, and it's taken years to earn her trust. She's the one who saved the day with Steve, because when I tossed her at him and told him to hold her for me, she hung on to him for dear life while staring into his eyes and we'd like to have never gotten her off of him. Just what I'd hoped she'd do; she saved his life. She adores my son in a worshipful way, will stand up on her hind legs to beg for ham (she goes bonkers over ham, and when she talks for it, her voice sounds like she's meowing "haaaam"). Others have fattened up on the dry catfood but Trouble stays slim. Btw, she's well named...when something goes CRASH, you can bet it's likely Trouble. I have cereal boxes and things above the refrigerator that Trouble likes to knock down. Crash sounds doesn't faze her in the slightest...she sits calmly and waits for her minions to pick up after her, lol.
Salem was 7 months old when I adopted him. He'd been an orphaned, bottle fed baby who had grown up with no discipline from mommy, so it took a while to train him (I pinned his head down to the floor or bed for half a minute) not to bite and shred my hands/arms when he was feeling playful. He can take a lot of pain and can't understand why the other cats can't...he's definitely a sadomasochist [:D] He's my sweet little baby. He enjoys going belly up with all 4 paws in the air to have his tummy rubbed...and we've taught him to answer when we say, "Speak."
Then came the two McDowell County floods, and we had to move into a FEMA trailer for a year. I picked up Grizzley Bear when I was donating food and supplies at the pound in the next county. He'd been raised with a dog and his people had moved here from Virginia and they couldn't find an apartment that allowed pets. He is HUGE, btw, and all black with green eyes. Anyway, he'd bitten everyone who worked there, through thick leather gloves even, and they were planning on putting him down as soon as the one who does the killing shots came back from vacation. After visiting him for a week and a half, driving an hour there and an hour back, I took him home. He had no idea how to be a cat, lol, was in ecstasy when he saw an animal sweater or a leash and would run for the door and sit and wait to be dressed up and have a leash put on. He had been neutered and declawed already so it took me 4 1/2 years before I relented enough to allow him outside in my yard, after we moved from the trailer into a house, without a leash. He keeps all the dogs and tom cats out of my yard, but allows refuge to some helpless looking females.
While at the FEMA trailer, soon after adopting Griz, someone dropped off 3 sick kittens. I didn't want to take them in, as I didn't have the money for having them tested for feline leukemia virus (and I really didn't want more than 4 cats) they all had feline herpes, bacterial eye infections, and one had a bot fly larvae burrowed in his neck (huge volcano like ugly thing, someone's brother gently dug it out with his knife thank goodness). I fed them, left water and shelter and used leftover meds on them, saved up money and took them to the vet for testing and neutering or spaying and declawing. Winter was getting rough and I had to do this to adopt them into my home. All 3 are part siamese, but the two boys are orange and white, and only the little sister shows the markings. Cyrano has the long elegant bone structure and the mouth that won't quit, his brother Valiant is more quiet with a Clint Eastwood type stare and attitude, and Marie loves to perch on shoulders *can you say OUCH?* and balance on the top of door frames.
I have 3 litter boxes and can't handle owning any more cats. Period. That possum that raids my trash and seeks shelter behind the compost bin (old deep freezer) outside my kitchen door isn't a pet, though I feed it cat food. Hey, it's skinny and looks starved. [:D]
My cats had pet mice for years...kitty tv...but they kept cracking the cages open and eating the actors. My son wants another rodent, but I hope we find a masochist who can handle being stared at real hard by 7 sadistic cats.
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