C is for Cat

I love cats. I really do.

My first real pet was a Siamese kitten named Missy (aka Missy Weasle, or Weezie for short!) my parents got when I was three years old. She would demand my attention when I was drawing or coloring, flopping on my book so I would pet her. I'd shove her off, and she'd come right back. Yeah, we were best buds….until the witch ate my fish. The fish that I saved up my measly allowance for for weeks. She ate him! WHOLE! I banned her from my room (ah, little kid logic) and ignored her for years to come. Around that time, my family got a miniature doxie and I became a dog person. I claimed I hated cats. I immersed myself in dogs, got a doxie of my own named Lily, and did 7 years of obedience in my local 4-H club.

While volunteering at the local shelter, a plain-jane kitten reached through the bars and snagged my shirt with her claws. Twice. I looked into those eyes and knew she was mine… I named her Pandora and begged my mom…but she thought she was just another ugly tiger cat…and I left Pandora behind. Four months later, we had to put Missy down (by then, I had begun to love her again, so it hurt so bad when I lost her…and it was my own fault) and I was a mess. Mom took me to the shelter…and the first cat I see?

Pandora. A little older, but she KNEW me. She reached for me again…and she was mine. And my love for cats has only blossomed. Pannie is seven now and my heart, my soul. I almost lost her last July due to pyometra (a uterine nfection that happens in unspayed, older female cats) and it was only thanks to my grandma that we were able to get her surgery. $700 dollars later, she's fat and happy and healthy and my love.

I love cats