I never thought I would own a cat. I am allergic to them, so I have typically avoided them in the past. But I do have a weakness for them. There is just something about a sleeping cat.. for me I just want to snuggle up to one. I love the purring and the funny kneading that they do to get a blanket or pillow just right.
During the fall of 2007, when Rylan was in the 15-18 month range, there was a juvenile kitty named Calliope that would visit our house every day. We spent a lot of time outside in the front yard playing in the leaves and such. Little Calliope would come over from a nearby cul-de-sac and rub up against Rylan and Jordan. They just *loved* her. Rylan would ask for a kitty all the time. Some time around November Calliope stopped visiting. We don't know why, but I suspect that she fell victim to either a car or a fox.
That January, on a bitter cold late afternoon, a couple who were out on a walk knocked on our door. The gentleman was holding a small grey tiger cat and asked if the cat was ours (she had a collar but no tags). She had hunkered down by some bushes near our garage door and looked pretty pitiful. I said that she wasn't, but that we could take her and contact the humane society, since they were out for a walk and couldn't very well carry around a cat. Big mistake.
Abby was thrilled to have a cat in the house. And not in a good way. Rylan was thrilled to have a kitty - and thought it was now hers. Jordan wanted to keep her too. I called the humane society and found out they closed in forty minutes. We drove her down there and they scanned her for microchips and searched the database. No chips, and no one was looking for her. I turned around and there were two little kids, looking at me with sad, "Can we keep her?" eyes. I called Dean. And then I paid a visit to PetsMart.
I had no idea what a cat needed. We were allowed to keep her during the mandatory waiting period for her owner to come looking for her. If she was still unclaimed at the end of two weeks, we could keep her. So I didn't want to spend a ton in case it didn't work out.
So as you can probably tell, it worked out. Abby had a sore nose for about a week, until she and Kitty reached an 'understanding' and Kitty showed she was boss. They now get along quite nicely, and even play once in awhile. We named her Chloe, but for whatever reason we all call her Kitty. We go to the vet and and she asks "How's Chloe?", and I respond with an intelligent sounding "Huh?". Kitty has never bothered me or Dean allergy-wise, and we give her frequent baths to keep it that way.
She is a very expensive kittycat too. A couple of years ago, I was working on a sewing project, and she batted loose a pin from the fabric and swallowed it, all in about 10 seconds. If I hadn't been sitting there and seen her do it, I would have had no idea. Forty-five minutes later, in the vet office, the x-ray showed that the pin had already traveled through the stomach and into the top of the small colon. She is now the thousand dollar kitty.
I have to say that my favorite thing is when she curls up in my lap. Absolute bliss.
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