Kitty Niblets

Since the last post, we have gotten cats. Yes, two fantastic two year old male cats, Socks and Hendrix. It was a kismet kinda thing, my husband had a co-worker whose ex-wife needed to get rid of them, as she was moving out of state, and wondered if my grandmother might be interested to help with the grief. By the way, she already has three cats that weren't doing well to begin with over the loss of my grandfather. Throwing another cat into the mix just might have sent them looking for a sharp knife and trash bags. I continued to ask probing questions like: how old are they, are they neutered, are they de-clawed, etc. Ever since I have been married, we have not had cats. I'm, unfortunately, ultra allergic. It was practically part of the marriage deal as my husband did not want me taking meds and suffering. Or maybe that was his ruse as he never had a good opinion about a cat. My logic was if I have to take OTC allergy meds during the fall and winter and sometimes spring, what's the difference. I wore him down! It was my intent to only get the one cat, Socks. He's a Himalayan something mix. We were told Himalayan/Persian mix. I'm not so sure. Aren't Himalayans Persian/Siamese mixes anyway? He's a seal point with blue eyes and the cutest white paws. Hence the name.

So, I picked up Socks. My husband didn't have a desire to go with me. He professed that it was going to be my cat so why should he go? We get Sockers home. Sockers hides! He seemed so well adjusted at the owner's home. We finally coax him out after about four hours. I pet him, reinforce where the food and litter box are and then he bolts back to the love seat. Long story short after a couple of days of Socks hiding, he starts to adjust. We have him for a week and 1/2 and the owner's ex-husband says, "You know, Hendrix ( a tabby and possibly part calico) is still available." My husband calls me to inform me...By this time he is starting to warm up to the idea of being a cat owner. He says that "Socks isn't like other cats." What he does not know is that Socks pretty much has your run of the mill cat tendencies, but he was woefully misguided. Another phone call later and we're the proud parents of not one but two cats and I still haven't made an appointment to see the doctor. About this time the breathing is becoming more labored and I'm getting pretty stuffed up.

I see the doctor, get the drugs, we're all bonding and life is grand. We are all happy and in a routine...then... we get the new ultra deluxe Booda (not Buddha) covered litter box with steps to wipe off the litter. I mulled over the idea for a week or two and finally just did it. The boys didn't think our idea was as brilliant as we thought it was. They didn't use it the whole day (which is very bizarre being that every day when I come home and every morning when I wake up it looks like a nuclear arms race in the box) and I was beginning to worry we would have to take them to the emergency vet for a bowel obstruction. I was anxious, "What have I done?" I stop hyperventilating and go into the other room to read my book to get my mind off of the situation at hand. Hendrix by this time has used the litter box. He may not have liked it, completely, but he braved the green globe. Socks goes into the litter box area and, not an exaggeration, three to five minutes later he walks back. Houston, we have a deposit! Hallelujah, Hallelujah, I'm not such a bad cat owner after all.

One of my major questions for the day is this: What is it with my boys - especially Socks - the Himalayan, when I sit down to use the restroom? To them it's an invitation to bolt in for "quality time" together. They both rub against my legs, purring, expecting to be rubbed and then Socks will collapse on his side or roll over on his back exposing his tummy. Caveat, I don't know why he lays on his back like that and makes it so inviting so that the casual observer just wants to rub it. It's off limits, no man's hand land. You bend down to rub that thing and you could loose an appendage. Then he'll take his big furry paws (and they are big, they're the kind of paws that look like his body never grew into) and reach for my legs. Really, all of that. It's not like the minute they step into their litter box I go running down next to it and flop on my side for their attention!

Here we are an asthmatic and a professed non-cat lover happily engrossed in our new beings. I'm sure there will be more anecdotes to come, because really, if you met them, you'd love them too!