A Pet Story: The Cats

All my life I had at least one cat. When I was 4...I think...a stray cat on another street had a litter. All of our other neighbors were doing it, so we took in a kitten, as well. Trix lived a good 18 years as an indoor/outdoor cat. He got in plenty of fights, gave us plenty of love when he wanted to offer it up and was your typical tomcat.

Trix in his later years.

We loved him so much, he was a part of our family. I was on break from college when it happened. He couldn't eat, he was obviously in pain. Dad and I took him to the vet , knowing what was going to happen. We sat in the back room of the vet's office, petting him. At the end Dad said, "We'll see you again, old friend." Oh, how I sobbed. I went to Mom's High School and told her. It was a very sad day.

A few years later, while I was still in college, I decided I needed a cat. I don't remember exactly where Jarvis came from, but he entered my life, a big ball of orange fuzz.

Jarvis moved to Georgia with me when I got my first "real" job out of college. We were pretty happy there. He had free reign of the apartment and the outdoors. He was a super friendly cat, loved everyone he ever saw. Definitely a "dog" cat - would prefer to be with humans rather than by himself.

Two days before we were going to move up to Connecticut for another job, Jarvis disappeared. He didn't come home for dinner. He didn't show up for breakfast either. I put food and water outside and it wasn't touched. I threw signs up, desparate for someone to tell me where my cat was. I drove around the neighborhood and further out, fearing the worst. I left Georgia by myself, really sad about the loss of this fantastic cat. I try to think about it positively. I figure Jarvis found another home with someone who loved him just as much - someone who didn't realize that a collar means the cat has another owner....

 Jarvis LOVED boxes.

In Connecticut, I decided I needed another cat. One I wouldn't let outside because I didn't think I could handle that pain of a runaway cat again. Now I can't even remember where I found Camden, but I think it was at a humane society in Connecticut. I adopted her about a month before this picture was taken.

When I moved to my next apartment, I told the woman I had two cats, because at that point, I wanted Camden to have a "friend." I found a litter at Pet Smart when I was picking up cat food. The black and white kitten who was terrorizing all of his littermates?

That one came home with me. Camden and Raven moved many times with me and finally ended up living with Hops after I moved down to North Carolina. At some point, we found out Hops was allergic to kitties. His life was fun - wheezy, puffed up marks on his arms, sneezy. Then, Camden decided she wanted to pee on the floor. Everywhere except for the litter pan. She peed next to it. She peed behind it. She would not pee in it. We cleaned the litter pan daily. We took her to the vet - it was not a UTI. There was no medical reason she was peeing on the floor. Our only other guess was because of her weight. She was very overweight. Hops lived in a small house with no stairs or large area to run around in like she had become accustomed to.

We decided to find Camden a better home (feel free to hate me for giving up an animal, I can take it). A friend was looking for a cat, so he took her and gave her a fantastic life in his 4 story townhome in Baltimore. As an only cat and a lot of stairs to run up and down every day (read: excercise on), she was happy. She also didn't have to share a litter pan and she seemed to lose her issues once she got settled. She also lost a lot of the extra weight. It was a fantastic move for her and helped us in the long run. 

Six months later, Raven moved down to North Carolina with Hops. They moved into my house and we were doing just fine. Then one day his parents came to visit. His Mom walked into the house and about 45 seconds later, had to walk back out. Apparently Momma Hopkins is deathly allergic to cats. When we moved to our current house, Hops had one request. A cat-free house. I stewed over that for a long, long time. I had already given up one cat, I had to give up my other one, too? How am I supposed to do that??

After a while, I figured it out. My Mom was in love with my cat. When she visited, she would comment that she was going to steal Raven from me. She had one cat already and she was willing to take Raven into their home. The day we sent Raven to Mom and Dad really happy day for them. Raven is now my Dad's shadow. Wherever Dad is, you can bet Raven is somewhere nearby waiting for a whisker rub.

So, that's how, after having cats as pets for 30 years of my life, I ended up without even one. It isn't all bad news, though. While we were transitioning in the old house, we acquired two new pets. That's our one big happy family above. :) More on that to come.