I have two cats which I am offering a good home.
Kit-Kat, the big grey and black striped tabby, is about 8 years old. I remember the day I got him. I was driving around with a friend of mine, and casually mentioned how I had always wanted a cat. Well, Christmas was coming up and he decided right then and there to get me my present - we dropped by the first pet store we saw and he told me to pick out whichever one I wanted.
What a hard choice! I’ve always been googly-eyed about kittens, but eventually I picked the grey one instead of one of the two white ones. He was so small, he could curl up in the palm of my hand - but he didn’t. The first thing he did was extend his needlelike claws and climb up my arms, shirt, and neck, to sit on the brim of my hat, purring contentedly. I took him out to the car and gave him a little piece of cheese from my taco. Thus was our friendship born.
He spent every night for the first 6 months of his life curled up in a ball on my chest while we slept. I used to toss and turn at night, but was suddenly very mindful not to - I couldn’t let anything happen to the little guy! He was so cute - he would follow me everywhere I went, and loved to sit on my hat or shoulders when I walked around. Eventually he settled down to sleep between my legs at night instead of on my chest, which left me a little more room to move.
He had a few problems early on. One of them was finding the litterbox. He left little messes all over the place, and it really got on my nerves after a while. I tried everything I could think of to train him, including locking him in the bathroom with just a litterbox and his food/water dishes. It broke my heart, but I had to do something.
I’ve heard of people getting rid of their cats because of this before. But that’s not why I’m offering my cats a good home.
It was unpleasant for both of us. I watched him all day, catching him whenever he started to go in the wrong place and putting him in the litterbox, and petting him and telling him what good cat he was. He’d still manage to sneak a few in sometimes, and I had to mix the positive reinforcement with the negative. So I did end up smearing his face in some nasty stuff a few times. But…eventually…he figured it out. I promised him that if he ever solved that little litterbox problem, I’d give him all the food he could eat. So, he’s a little overweight now…but he’s happy.
People say you can’t train cats, but I trained Kit-Kat. I trained him to stand up on his hind legs when he wanted food. It’s so cute. He begs like a dog on command. Absolutely adorable. I trained him with bits of velveeta cheese.
We also had matching earrings when he was young. I pierced his left ear to match mine and he rode on my shoulder (he was too big for the hat at this point), our twin earrings flashing in the sun. He was so proud of his…until he got it caught on something and ripped it out of his ear. I had to clip a bit of his ear off so now he’s got 1 7/8 ears. But he’s still a beeeyooootiful kitty.
He eats bugs. He loves eating bugs. It doesn’t do much for his breath, but it keeps the apartment clean.
He still makes occasional deposits outside of the litterbox, but only if I haven’t cleaned it in a while, so I figure that’s my fault.
A while back, I was in a bad condition. I had no money, no income, and was in danger of losing my roof. We had no electricity, no air conditioning, no phone service. I didn’t have enough money to buy cat food.
I’ve heard of people getting rid of their cats because of this before. But that’s not why I’m offering my cats a good home.
Instead, each night I would open up a can of tuna and make a sandwich. I would eat the sandwich and Kit-Kat would finish off the can. We were poor, but we were poor together, and that made it ok.
He’s the most relaxed cat in the world. Seriously - you can pick him up and cradle him upside down like a baby, rubbing his belly and giving him rasberries. He just purrs and stretches his legs out. You can spin him around on the linoleum until he gets dizzy, and he doesn’t mewl at all. Afterwards, if you pick him up and hold him close, you can hear him purr while he watches the room spin around. You can even pull on his tail until it pops like your knuckles. He loves that too.
He sleeps between my legs at night, but lately has taken to sleeping on my pillow next to my head. He licks my head all the time - my personal hairdresser. He spends most days lounging in a sunbeam. He’s used to having food out all the time and will wake me up if the bowl becomes empty at 3am. If he sees me in the kitchen, he’ll come in and mewl a little, standing on his hind legs. Sometimes I’ll give him milk.
He’s been neutered and declawed in the front, so I keep him indoors all the time.
He frequently greets new people by sticking his face in their mouth to see what they have eaten recently. He greeted my father that way the first time he came to visit.
He starts purring immediately whenever he gets attention. You can just say his name and he’ll start purring like an outboard motor. Grab his front legs and drag him across the floor on his back. Purrrrrrrrr. See him walking around and push him over with your foot. He’ll just lay there, looking at you. Purrrrrrrrr.
Oh, Henry! is the nervous little black cat. He’s about 5 years old. I originally got him to keep Kit-Kat company while I was gone. I was working and going to night school, so I was gone about 12 hours a day. Kit-Kat was getting fat and I couldn’t break my promise of unlimited food for him, so I got him an exercise partner instead. That was Oh, Henry!.
I picked him up at the ASPCA, an adorable little black fuzzy bundle that mewled a lot. He was sooo cute. He also loved crawling up onto stuff - usually things like my back, while I was cooking dinner. He’d get onto the shelf behind me and pounce, digging his claws into my back (I rarely wore shirts) and climbing up to my shoulder to look around innocently while I was trying not to burn dinner.
I’ve heard of people getting rid of their cats because of this before. But that’s not why I’m offering my cats a good home.
He’s got little yellow eyes, and he’s the most non-scary black cat you’ve ever seen. His fur is sleek and silky, and he is actually a bit nervous. If he doesn’t know someone, he’ll find a place to hide and won’t come out. His latest spot has been on top of the cupboard above the refrigerator. He sits up there for hours, just staring down with those little yellow eyes.
Don’t let him fool you though, he’s a lovebug if you can coax him into it. Say his name a few times, walk up to him slowly, pet him gently…he’ll come around.
He also loves playing around with things that move under the covers. Stick your hand under the sheets and move it around, and he’ll be pouncing on it in no time. He also chases strings, belts, ribbons, and the like.
Kit-Kat and Oh, Henry! don’t always get along perfectly. As a matter of fact, Kit-Kat is a bit of a bully sometimes. I often find little tufts of black fur on the carpet or even hanging out of an innocent-looking Kit-Kat’s mouth.
Oh, Henry! sometimes squeals in pain and frustration because Kit-Kat won’t leave him alone. Until recently, I stayed out of the pecking order proceedings, but lately I’ve started to admonish Kit-Kat if he gets too rough. He’s learning.
I’ve heard of people getting rid of their cats because of this before. But that’s not why I’m offering my cats a good home.
I have a roommate who is allergic to cats.
That’s not why I’m offering them a good home either. We worked things out - he takes medication and we both keep the dander under control.
Sometimes they bring me dead rodents.
That’s not why I’m offering them a good home either. Cats bring dead animals because they are trying to do their part in the household - bringing food for the others, aka me. I couldn’t be angry at them for that - as a matter of fact, I think it’s the sweetest thing my cats can do for me - to go hunting with my welfare on their little kitty brains.
I’m trying to move to a new apartment. Most of the ones I want won’t allow cats.
That’s not why I’m offering them a good home either. My cats are part of my family. I wouldn’t leave my wife or children behind (if I had any), so why would I leave my cats? It’s simply a requirement of any place that I find. They have to let me keep my cats. So what if they ask for a $400 nonrefundable deposit? I knew my cats would be a serious responsibility when I got them. Some people put less thought into getting married or having children, and believe me, that can be hella more expensive.
So why am I offering my cats a good home?
Because the home I am offering them is my own. For as long as I have a home to offer, they will be welcome in it. Through incontinence, dead rodents, late-night yowls, tufts of fur, allergies, financial hardships, medical bills, pet fees, residential restrictions, hairballs on the carpet, and whatever else life might throw at us, they remain my kids.
I will feed them, pet them, clean up after them, adore them, coddle them, show them off, and miss them when I’m away. I may not get their teeth cleaned every few years like the vet recommends, and I might sometimes pick up the store-bought pet food instead of the more expensive prescription stuff for Kit-Kat. But they will never starve. Or freeze. Or be forced to dig through the trash (although they might do it anyway). And most importantly, they will never, ever feel abandoned by the big two-legged guy they have come to trust as their provider and guardian and loving owner.
I won’t be offering them to the first taker when they get too old, sick, ugly, or if my fiancee or wife is allergic. And I certainly won’t take them to animal control or the ASPCA or PETA, knowing they’ll be gassed in 3 days, alone, afraid, and abandoned (Yes, PETA kills unwanted pets too - look it up).
No, I’ll keep my cats safe, warm, and loved for as long as we all live. They are family.
And if you have cats, I think you should do the same.