Welcome to the real world.
I’ve been feeling completely out of control of my entire life and world recently. I know, in reality, that I have very little control of things as is.
It’s bad when the radio goes to Surface of the Sun and it makes you burst into tears :-$ Hi Hugh you rock my world but I didn’t wanna cry again tonight.
So yes. I’m having a little trouble with these fact things recently. I won’t deny it. Yes, I made a list. Yes, it’s pretty long. But I think I’m pretty boring. And I can’t see why everyone’d wanna read this crap anyway. haha.
Anyway. In honour of the fact that today is my kitty’s birthday.
Fact 8: I’m a cat person.
We’ve always had cats in my house. We started out with Toby who was part of the family before I was. He was a black and white tomcat. Everyone always said he was cranky. I don’t remember him as cranky though. He was good with us kids. We could “pet” him (which as kids usually meant pulling his fur) and he wouldn’t scratch or bite. That cat was a fighter, he was, but damn we loved him. Poor boy had part of his tail sliced off (by accident) with the screen door and many other mishaps. And had many fights with other animals in the neighbourhood. It was a sad day when we had to take him to be put down, but by that point he was really sick and quite old.
Cody came next. She was my baby, even though she belonged to the whole family. I “paid” for my white bundle of fur, from a couple my dad worked with. They’d rescued her from the dogs next door who were terrorizing her. I could sympathise with her there, but that’s another story. She’d try to sneak in my room at night. She’d follow me and meow when I walked to school, and later when I walked to the bus stop. She was only really friendly to me all the time. My cousins used to call her a bitch since she’d bite at them. It broke my heart that night we came back from Harry Potter and found her in the basement. She’d had a stroke and it ended up paralizing her one back paw. The vet did the best he could, reassured us that she wasn’t in pain, and we were able to bring her home and enjoy her love for a few more months. I still miss her sometimes.
Sometime after Cody came into our lives, Missy showed up at our doorstep. In the middle of a horrible cold snap in winter, just before Christmas. That’s how she got her name. Christmas Missy, a shivering mess of brown fur. Dad told us over and over and over not to let her in. We didn’t need another cat. One was enough. And we came home from last minute Christmas shopping to find him sitting in the basement with her curled up in his lap. Oh he got teased for that one, and we had two cats instead of one. And Missy is still quite happy in her… I think she’s 12 now, at least, back home with my parents.
Jake, my baby boy, is my saviour. He’s kept me sane through the horrors that was design school. He’s loved me when I’ve felt completely stuck in a black hole. He’s cuddled and purred me when I’ve needed to be with someone. He’s no angel, that’s for sure, but he is an amazing bundle of orange fur. He was a market kitty, orginally named George. And the minute the girl placed him in my arms, he stole my heart and was mine. Convincing dad and the roommates was a little harder but… haha and since our apartment had a little wooden man named George, that name wouldn’t do. Besides, I didn’t want a cat named George.
He drives me nuts. And he melts me with a single purr. He’s my favourite boy and he’s the only one I’ll willingly share my bed with.