On Cats: A Reflection
Or we just want to sit and gab around our furry babes
Cats. These mystical creatures have been revered for eons and continue to maintain their less-cat more-otherworldly lifestyle in each of our homes. Of course, it’s silly to spend an entire piece talking about the greatness that is our cats, but hey, we’re silly over here. All four of us have at least one cat — maybe it’s because we’re crazy women and therefore deserve cats, or maybe because we just love their toe beans so much. Either way, we wanted to take the time to reflect on a species that has brought us many smiles, laughter, and joy during these dark times.
Shelby’s Early Onset Cat Lady Syndrome:
At one point, in my life, I have had nine cats — at the same time — for a total of 11 cats my lifetime. Okay, that’s a fuckton of cats — that’s hoarder level cat shit. But let me ease your soul: they were mostly distributed evenly between two households. With divorced parents, obviously a child needs pets at both houses to feel loved.
At my mom’s we had four that were all more or less related — two pairs that were siblings (from the same litter) and I think they all had the same mom — there were Ferragamo and Armani, sister and brother respectively. Ferragamo was my mother’s first cat and she didn’t realize what she was in for. Her brother, Armani, had been adopted but it wasn’t working out, so we begged my mother to let us take him in too. They’re siblings after all! And then a year or so later, the momma cat had another litter and Dolce and Gabanna, brother and sister respectively, were added to our pack. Each has its own personality. Ferragamo was sort of a stereotypical cat — she hissed frequently, was sassy and particular. Armani was the love bug, Winne the Pooh cat who constantly wanted snuggling. Gabanna was the idiot derp. And Dolce (an orange tabby) was the wildcard, the adrenaline junky and desperately sought the outside world. When my mom’s then-boyfriend moved in, he brought along his cat, PJ. My mother, as you probably could have surmised, had chosen the names of her new designer children. So it was only fitting that PJ, while not a designer brand, was named after PJ Brown of the NBA. I mean, the personality these cats had. It was chaotic!
So to the people who are adamantly “dog-only”: You don’t know what you’re missing. Dogs are fucking fantastic, I have had five dogs in my lifetime and have loved every one to literal bits. Literal bits. But I have theories. One, when presented with a dog that is heavily disabled or has severe aggression, you would pass. I claim that the people who categorize themselves as “dog-only” people have only experienced the traditionally goofy, loyal, man’s best friend pet. Yes, I would say it is more likely a dog be excited and fun or affectionate and loyal versus aggressive (these dogs are either handled differently while outside so you might not notice them or are just put down, which is why there’s “less” of them). Each cat, however good or bad, is present (cats are totally less of a threat to humans than dogs so even the aggressive ones can get adopted) and it’s ever-changing. Each cat is so critically different from the last, yet familiar all the same. Armani was a huge lovey cat, so his Hermia. But Hermia is so skittish and selfish while Armani truly was docile. Then there’s Juliet who is unlike any other animal ever. I love them both so much and by saying you are “dog-only” is limiting yourself to never experiencing strange and hypnotic cats. Go play with one, you’ll both love me and hate me for it.*
*I obviously know that allergies can prevent someone from getting a cat (or a dog). I’m actually allergic to both. For me, an over-the-counter allergy pill works great!
This is Armani (the Tuxedo) and Gabanna (the brown tabby).
Sydney’s a Rescuer at Heart:
All my life I’ve been an equal opportunity animal lover. I grew up in a house of cats for my early years and around 8 years old we got our first dog. By the time I’d graduated high school we’d lost our three original cats, gotten two dogs, AND adopted another cat. Two years later we’d get our next one. All this is to say that I am not unaccustomed to a life lived with a familiar. Our last cat, Lola, was originally intended to go to me, but alas my dorm had a no pet policy. Once out of college and on my own, getting a pet seemed so distant. I kind of felt like my parents needed to give me permission, but they weren’t going to do that. They thought pet ownership was not a wise financial decision for me (they’re kind of right). But after two years of volunteering at Animal Haven in New York, I took the plunge.
It was a casual Sunday morning (Father’s Day 2019 to be exact) and I was having a hard time emotionally. I’m not sure what was going on exactly, but in my ennui, I decided to scroll the adoptable animals at my shelter. That’s when I saw him. His golden fur and sweet eyes. Waffles. I needed him and he clearly needed me. I checked with my roommates and they were all on board so I whisked off to Chinatown to meet my future child. When we arrived I was greeted by the receptionist who knew me from volunteering. I said I was interested in Waffles and was escorted into his room for a meet and greet. I instantly knew he was mine. I filled out the paperwork and on the spot was approved to take him home. All in all, from first sighting on the web to take him home, was 4 hours. I finally knew what my mum meant when she said I was a reckless decision-maker, but I’ve never regretted it. The first thing to do was toss out the name Waffles. He was a stray so that was just a random name assigned to him at the shelter. I decided on Costello, playing off my roommate’s dog’s name Abbott. My little pumpkin muffin had a bit of adjusting to do. While I now believe him to have been feral, I didn’t know that at the time. For months my arms were scarred with scratches and bites, but I never gave up on him. In the year I’ve gotten to live with this little orange marshmallow, I’ve been so blessed to see him grow into himself. He’s become so sweet, yet cheeky. Very mischievous, but really a softy at heart. My life has become so much fuller and richer since adopting him. I feel a sense of purpose and responsibility to make sure he feels safe and protected (two things I don’t think he had on the street). He’s helped me heal a broken heart and I like to think I healed his too.
Aimée’s Bougie Ass Cat:
Confession: I “shopped” for my cat. Toulouse was born on November 8, 2018, at Cosmic Spots Cattery. He is a CFA-registered ocicat, and he cost $1800. But the reason we chose to get an expensive, bougie cat was not because of his gorgeous spotted coat (although that’s certainly a plus). We chose an ocicat because they are a hypoallergenic breed.
My whole life, I always wanted to have a cat. Since my mom and brother were allergic, though, I wound up with hermit crabs and a rabbit instead. While I loved my other pets dearly (especially sweet Hokus, my bunny), I was always waiting for the day that I could get a cat of my very own. Once I was done with the #dormlife and into my first real apartment with Mike, we knew it was time to get a kitty. Mike is definitely more of a dog person, but he knew how badly I wanted a cat. Also, it’s much easier to have a cat than a dog when you’re in an apartment — especially one like ours at the time, where pets weren’t allowed (but literally everyone in the building had multiple pets).
Even though I was no longer living with my mom or brother, I still wanted to be conscientious of them and other people in our lives with cat allergies. My mom and Mike’s dad are both highly allergic — like, to the point where they really can’t be in the home of a cat owner without sneezing and wheezing and carrying on. Thus, the natural solution for us seemed to be to get a hypoallergenic cat.
I had learned about ocicats on the Animal Planet series Cats 101 several years before and had been intrigued by them ever since. They’re a loving, athletic, and beautiful breed that are believed to be hypoallergenic. See, other than hairless cats, there’s really no such thing as a completely hypoallergenic cat, but some breeds are definitely more so than others. Long story short, though, my mom and Mike’s dad have both been in our different apartments and have interacted with Toulouse with absolutely zero allergic reactions! He really was worth that hefty sum of money.
However, that’s not to say it’s all sunshine and rainbows with Toulouse. Ocicats may be hypoallergenic, which is great, but they’re also super intelligent and athletic. In other words, they need a lot of mental stimulation and playtime, which can sometimes be hard to fit into our busy schedules (pre-quarantine, obviously). Toulouse loves nothing more than to leap through the air after a teaser wand toy or to chase a laser all over the apartment. If we aren’t giving him enough attention and stimulation, though, he gets a bit aggressive — either toward us or toward my poor stuffed animals! His intelligence can be helpful when it comes to other things, though. For one, he is toilet trained, so we don’t have to deal with a stinky litter box! Additionally, Toulouse knows how to ask for food, and he (kind of) responds to his name. His “dog-like” personality is pretty fun, too; he always greets us at the door when we come home, and he typically follows one of us from room to room. I almost get weirded out now when I go to someone’s house and their cat just lies there and ignores us!
In short, Toulouse’s energy can sometimes be hard to handle, but I wouldn’t trade that sweet boy for anything in the world. He was worth EVERY PENNY, and I will love him forever!!
Kayla’s Necessary Cat Conversion:
If you were to ask me what my spirit animal would be, I would say — without hesitation — a cat. I have always been drawn to felines and I often associate my mannerisms with cats. For instance, I love to sleep, I don’t want to be touched unless I initiate, I have a strict mealtime that has to be met or I get hangry, I am really good at pretending not to listen when someone is talking, and I love to lay in towels that are fresh out of the dryer (is that weird?).
You could say I was destined to become a crazy cat lady from the start. Before I met Marc I always told people that I would end up alone with 15 cats; however, we all know part of that statement is no longer true…I am still working on the 15 cats part though much to Marc’s dismay. My friends, family, and coworkers all know about my slight cat obsession so at birthdays and Christmas I always receive something cat related. I even have a sign on my desk that says “Ask me about my cats” with a selection of cute cat figurines. I would attach a photo of it, but I haven’t been in the office since March.
Unlike myself, Marc was not so easily convinced that a cat was the right pet choice. He grew up on a farm with dogs and horses while I grew up in a house with cats. When I left home for college I knew I would adopt my own at the first opportunity. My plan was clearly not thought out very well because I decided to move in with a roommate that was allergic! For three years I dreamed of adopting my own fur baby and when I finally moved in with Marc during my senior year of college, I knew it was the perfect opportunity. I had just returned home from a study abroad trip in Germany when I dragged him to the closest animal shelter I could find. It was there, on August 19, 2016, that we adopted our first baby, Athena.
Now here is the point in the story that Marc would pipe in and say “I picked her out and I chose her name”… and unfortunately he is right, but don’t let him know I admitted that. He was watching a litter of fluffy grey kittens play in one of the kennels when suddenly he saw one of them head butt another into the litter box. At that moment he knew that was the one he wanted. Little did we know our small 2 pound floof would turn into a large, grey, 13 pound bigger floof. From the day we brought her home she became our baby. I can’t pick favorites because that would be horrible of me, but I always tell people she is our favorite “first” cat.
The first year we had Athena we lived in a house with two roommates and one other cat. When we moved out of the house and into our own apartment, Marc and I knew Athena was not handling it well. She was incredibly needy and had anxiety when we left the house. So, when we moved to Dallas we knew it was time to adopt another cat. On Dec. 31, 2017 we braved a Dallas ice storm (and by storm I mean there was a little ice on the road.By Texas standards it was horrible though!) and decided to celebrate the New Year the only way we knew how… by adopting another cat. I had always wanted a black and white tuxedo cat and as soon as I saw Thalia, pronounced Tah-lee-ah, I knew she was perfect! We decided on the name Thalia because it fit with our Greek goddess theme. P.S. I know Thalia is technically a muse.
I may be biased, but I think we have the perfect cat children. Athena, A-bear, ‘Thena, Athena-bear, jumbo, or little shit is very laid-back and cuddly. She would let Marc and I hold her for hours. Unfortunately, she hates just about everyone else in the world and when we have guests over she doesn’t even make an appearance. Thalia, Tah-lee, TT, or T-bear, is our talkative, rambunctious, wild-child cat that hates to be held. She is a bit more social and tends to “flop” over for people to rub her tummy.
Right now, our cats are our children. We play with them, feed them, take naps with them, and I’m pretty sure the only photos on my phone right now are of them. One day I am hoping to foster cats (just like Sydney!), but today I am just content FINALLY having two fuzzy cats that keep my head warm at night. Did I mention they like to sleep directly on my head? It is just another perk as I continue on my quest of becoming a crazy cat lady.
