Starting at the beginning is easiest.....first cat I had was X-it. As I said previously, I had hit a cat on a country road and couldn't find it, so me being me, went to the pound and adopted him. I don't even remember what pound or why because it was so long ago. He was a black cat. Now that I'm involved with a rescue organization, I have learned that a lot of people won't even look at a black cat due to superstition. A cat is a cat, if they have a good personality (and who can tell when they're a kitten anyway? Luna is proof of that!) then you're all set no matter what they look like. I'd like to state though there are some cats that I personally do not find cute, those ones with the smooshed faces (and the same thing goes for dogs with me) or anything purebred, which I would never pay $$ for anyway, though Maine Coons are cute.
Anyway, it was close to 30 years ago, but he used to kinda say his name, he was this weird meow that sounded almost dolphinesque. So you'd say 'X-it' and he'd say urk urk (doesn't translate well to print). I moved a few times with him and he was in the current home I have. He died at the age of 16. He had just gone missing for a couple of days (he was one of the outdoor cats, back before there were the mean things in the wood there are today), and he came back and just wasn't the same. He was dirty and disoriented. The vet thought maybe he had a stroke, and euthanized him.
Next was 'stache. She was a petite, long haired, tuxedo girl with (guess what!) a mustache. She was a priss to say the least, but try as she might, she had no meow, she would open her mouth and nothing would come out. She was killed in my last house when a huge dog jumped my 4' fence (yes in MY fenced in yard) in front of me.
Moola was found at the ATM machine vestibule in the trash can. I heard this squeaking and thought it was a fan, but then I heard rustling and looked inside and there was this teeny tiny little tortoise kitty. She was probably only 5-6 weeks old. Moo was the 'adventure' cat. Once she was missing and turns out she'd climbed into a drawer and was behind it. She also climbed 8' up into a soffit above the cabinets once. Moo's tail got run over by a car as she ran across the street (and no the person did not stop though I was outside). It had to be amputated and she did fine for awhile, but then nerve damage took over after a couple of years and she became incontinent and was having issues walking. so she ended up euthanized. She was 10.
In the meantime, after 'stache, we got Tigg'r, a dilute tortie. and only had her a short time, we found her dead in the yard, not sure if she was poisoned or hit (she didn't look hit).
And then there was Elvis. He was right up there with Rex as far as cats behaving like a dog. He just showed up one day and moved in. He was very vocal. I was at the point of trying to keep cats in (and you know how that goes sometimes, there are just some cats you cannot keep in, especially older ones). He was maybe 4-5 when he showed up. He used to 'talk' to you the whole time you'd be getting groceries out of the car, he was a great cat, had him a couple of years. I also found him on the front yard one day, not sure what happened to him either, no visible injuries.
Bailey came from the pound as a baby. She was a petite, dilute long haired tortie. Also a priss. She would go out only to pee though, she didn't go out otherwise and she NEVER left the deck except to go pee. She used to sleep in the strangest places. I have a photo of her sleeping in the manger at Christmas one year. She was 15 and just disappeared, though my son heard 'noises' late that night, we never found any trace of her.
Moe was my baby. Got him as a kitten at the pound. A big long haired tuxedo boy. If there was a newspaper or magazine being read, Moe was on top of it. He made it impossible to do anything because he'd just lay on it (he was 15#). He was big snuggler. Like all the cats, he came when he was called. He was also totally spooked by anything. Very skittish. He went out only to pee as well. I didn't like him out and he didn't like being out. He usually ran out with the dog after dinner and came back after the dog went out again at night. He never stayed out all night and given at this point I had seen coyotes and fisher cats, I didn't want anyone out. Plus the cat next door had been killed by a raccoon. Moe was about 10 and he ran by me one night as I let the dog out late. I tried waiting up for him but he didn't come back. The next day, while cutting the grass, his 'parts' were found all over my yard. I was heartbroken. He was soooo skittish I can only imagine that it had to have been more than one attacker or he would have just run away. I am totally responsible for his death as I didn't keep him in (though I tried).The kids brought Pharoah home one day. He was hanging around the bus stop for a couple of days and then followed them home (like a 1/2 a mile followed them home).
He was crazy. You'd come home and find the birdcage on the floor, the curtains down, etc. Try as we might (at this point, nobody was going to go out), couldn't keep him in. He'd pee on everything (well he still does, even though he's neutered), he hates everyone except my son (who has now moved out) and now only tolerates us, but he's your best friend when he's outside. I consider him to be a bit more 'street smart' than the other cats. He hangs out on the roof of the house most of the time. He used to bang on the kids' windows to come in (and we've discouraged that because he was ruining the screens, but there is one window he's allowed to bang on now). He's 9 now and he's a blue Abyssinian. He would hang off the ceiling fan if he thought he could get up there. His nickname is 'wheee' because he was always flying around the house. A funny story about him. I was down the street at a gardening place and there was a cat sleeping there that looked exactly like him. After talking to the owner, he was found wandering about the same time Pharoah was found, so I'm pretty sure it's his brother. Pharoah though street smart is also as dumb as a box o' rocks. When the dog gets shaved every year, Pharoah runs up the stairs and hisses and growls at him for days, took me a while to figure out he thinks it's a new dog.....And yes, he still hates everyone, especially that new stupid puppy.
After Moe passed away (and Rex was still here, I won't do his story because he has his own page on the blog, and Pharoah is here) I got (bella) Luna. I saw her on Petfinders (remember I do the website for a rescue organization).
She was listed as a 6 week old bengal/savannah and as you can see from her photo, she was totally adorable. What I didn't know (and now I know better) is that you don't get to 'pick'. They brought her to my house and she immediately laid on her back in my lap and went to sleep. Not that she didn't win me over with THAT behaviour, but I didn't get to see other kittens. Well, she was fine for awhile, but she hates everyone. Especially the vet. She weighs 5" soaking wet, yet it takes 3 people with gloves to hold her down at the vet. Now she is terrified to go and it's become this double edged sword. They have to hold her down (cuz she bites and hisses and scratches) and they hurt her when they hold her down, not on purpose but you really have to hold her, therefore, she bites and scratches more. She's fine with me 90% of the time. She sleeps on my head at night, she loves the smell of 'wet people' and rolls all over the bath towels. But she'll rip your face off if you look at her wrong. I'm not sure how she feels about the puppy. Being a Border Collie, he will chase her. But I've seen her run on purpose and let him follow her and her roll on her back (okay maybe only a minute, but still...). I've also seen her hide behind something and either pounce or whack at him as he goes by, usually scaring him and resulting in a bark a thon. She also had lupus when she was little (well she's only 3 now) and she is also diagnosed with stress (???) induced cystitis. She's on 1/4 amitriptyline every other day for it. Learning from Rex, she has the water fountain, no prescription food, but I did get her on soulistic, which is a human grade cat food and I feed grain free to all 3 of them. It's under control for now.
She, believe it or not, lets me give her her medicine. I used to wrestle her down and use either butter or whipped cream (treats for her, she loves them) to get it down, but I found that if I'm sitting on my computer and she's in my lap relaxing (seems to be her favourite place) I can get it into her with no wrestling (most of the time). It's also encased in capsules that I had to get at the compounding pharmacy. Seems amitriptyline must taste horrible, she drools terribly if she gets a taste of it, which is why you can't 'hide' it in anything. Truly the worst cat I've ever owned, but she's cute.
The most recent edition is Mugsy. After Rex passed away, we were left with Pharoah who hates everyone and the evil Luna (call my vet, they'll agree!). So though we knew we'd never replace Rex, I started kinda looking. Having your vet's staff emailing you photos of homeless cats doesn't help. SO I saw this cat, Bubbles, on a website and called, filled out the applications and headed down there. Well the staff felt (and this is the rescue I work for now) another cat, Muggles, was a better fit in the household. He climbed up into my lap and went to sleep (after Luna, I wasn't really buying this act). They said he was about 2, he'd been a stray and he was a good boy.
He came home that day and he had big shoes to fill. The week after he came, the great flood of 2010 hit and my basement filled with water, and then the repairs, etc.
All the cat stuff was down stairs, so it all moved up to the 2nd floor and the door had to be kept shut because of workmen going in and out and windows open airing out, etc. The joke was that Mugsy (renamed Mug O' Guinness, with his birthday being St. Patrick's Day, he'll be 4 this week) was probably wishing he'd stayed at the pound. And he HATED the dog (didn't have the puppy yet) I mean hated. And the dog does NOT CARE. The dog would be laying down and Mugsy would walk by, the dog would just shift her eyes over, not even moving any other part of her body just to see what was walking by and swat, growl, hiss. This went on for over a year, they're not the best of friends now, but it's stopped. Took him a year though. Funny thing was when I brought Ozzy home, Mugsy was the first one to greet him!
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