Your first cat.

Many of us have had cats all our lives, some just got their first kitty. I thought we could post about the first cat we got for our own.
I'm sorry if a) this is in the wrong forum, and/or b) if we've covered this already.

The first cat that was "mine" was Socks. She was a gift when I was 6 years old. She's still alive and lives with someone else now, but I call up to check on her all the time. We were separated when my dad left for Vegas and I moved in with my mom where no pets were allowed. I was only 9 then, I tried but couldn't change the situation.
(I'm talking about her in the past tense because I'm talking about when we were together.)
She was beautiful and sweet, but very independent. She was crazy about food. I remember on Thanksgiving we had a lovely turkey cooling on the counter, forgot about it and left for a quick trip, then came back to find it half eaten with her on the table licking her lips. She loved being scratched so much in her favorite spot by her chin so much she would drool. She also actually enjoyed being picked up and smooched, unlike most cats.
A few years ago her new owner (who is absolutely wonderful and loves Socks very much) and I talked about me taking her back, but decided against it for reasons including the higher predator risks here (she was raised an indoor/outdoor cat [who prefers the outdoors and refuses litter boxes; only relieves herself outside] and would be miserable inside) and she can't stand dogs (I have 2). On top of that, she's an only cat now which is how she likes it best. She never really liked the other cats we had. I want to leave her where she's adjusted now, not pass her around like a used book for my own selfish feelings (missing her terribly).

Here are the only two pictures of Socks I own. They're both crummy scans of crummy scratched photos from a crummy disposable camera, but they're of a very special girl and I treasure them.

She was sooo soft.


Socks getting a very unwelcome bath from my grandma. (Yes, they have an extravagant bar. )



Tell me about YOUR first cat.

My first cat is Joji (and her brother (RB) Dumdum). When I moved to my present house, they were surviving on their own in the garden. I never had cats or other pets while growing up because my family traveled a lot.

I consider Trout my first cat...she is my soul kitty. Any kitty our family had when I was a kid was expendable. My mom would just get free kittens, then get rid of them. Trout is my first kitty that I obtained on my own, and fell in love with.

I'm kind of the same way. We always had cats around when I was growing up, but since my mother believed in putting them out at night, they never lasted long.

Snoopy was the first cat Dottie and I had. We'd been married about 3 months. Our car was in the shop. We gathered up all the loose change in the house (even emptied out the couch!) for a gallon of milk and a dozen eggs. Walking to the store, we saw a cute white/black kitty by the side of the highway.

"Don't pet the cat!" Dottie said. "He'll follow you home and want to stay with us."

He was still there when we came back. I couldn't resist. I petted the cat. He followed us home. We fed him scrambled eggs. When it came time for bed, I put him outside. In the morning, when I called him, he appeared from under a car with grease on him and burned paws. I said, "It's easy to see what the result of that habit will be," so that day, he became and indoor kitty.

He was always feisty, but we loved him and had him for almost 15 years.

I was 7 years old when we got our first kitten. Blackie was her name, but i haven't any pictures of her so i must ask my sister?.

She was mainly all black with a tiny bit white. I loved her

When my parents were still married, my dad had a tuxedo cat named Lydia. My mom said when I was crawling I would go after her and try to grab her tail (didn't know any better I was an infant!) to pet her, she tolerated me doing that. Parents divorced when I was 5, dad kept Lydia and I think she passed at the late teen's. Then my sister and I convinced my dad to adopt another cat, who was also a Tuxedo, named Susie. I think Susie lived until her early teens.

Nacho & Logan are my first cats - so now the next umpteen years of my life will be different but in a good way.

I consider my ex step-father's cat Herakles my first cat. (Mom didn't let me have my own). Unfortunately I don't have any pictures of him. Herakles was a solid blue purebred persian, he had a bit longer nose than he should have had so he was sold as pet. He was gorgeous, I'll never forget those fiery copper eyes! He was 5 years older than me and had very unique personality. He had very low voice, sounded like he had been smoking for 50 years and drinking whiskey. Loved to be combed and brushed and had a chocolate addiction, he was very good hunter too. He had free access outside because he didn't leave his own yard. All of the kitties in the neighbourhood looked up to him, they even brought him 'gifts', like squirrels and mice..
He died ten years ago at the age of 19, I miss him so much that everytime I think about him it brings tears to my eyes.
My oldest cat Utu reminds me a lot of Herakles, they have similar facial features even though they are different breed (Utu is BLH), and their personalities are also very much a like. It's very hard sometimes because just looking at Utu reminds me of Herakles and I'll start crying.. I bet Utu thinks I'm insane.

We had a kitten when I was born, but the first cat I remember and called my own was a blue tabby DSH kitten my paternal grandmother found behind her place and gave to me. Mom named him Tom Tinker.

He was barely weaned. A week after he came we arrived home and heard a commotion in the end of the living room. He had caught a mouse that was almost as big as him! This was the first of his many kills. Rabbits had no chance in our yard. Mom went into the garden one spring and kept finding piles of fur and bones he left.

He became a most favored member of the family the night he woke Mom up by frantically pawing at her arm. Mom opened her eyes and saw a layer of smoke just above her face. She woke Dad and they got sis and I out of the house ASAP! Thanks to Tom we survived. (SOmething had blocked the furnace chimney.)

We had Elmer, a yellow kitty we got when I was two. He stayed a fighting tom for 9 years, until a vet recommended we neuter him to stop him from fighting (never would've occurred to us to neuter for stopping reproduction! It was the 1960's)

At the age of 11 (which is not that old today, but seemed really old then) he started to go downhill on Christmas day. He quit eating and by the end of the week could barely walk. His very last night he literally dragged himself to my bedroom to sleep with me, which he always did. I was so happy to have that last night with him.

Now we use something called veterinary care. Then, times were different, I guess. I don't know if he could've been saved or not. I still miss my Elmie.

The first cat that I can remember that was all mine was a kitten I got when I was in 2nd grade. He loved to swing on the curtains, so I named him Tarzan. He was a brown tabby.

He had been neutered but always would get into fights with the neighbor cat, Maynard, a big orange tom.

One day, we could not find him and I went looking for him. A found him under an old stove in the backyard. I picked him up and felt drops of blood hitting my leg. Poor boy had what I believe is kidney stones! We took him to the vet and he was fine after that.

He was a very big boy. He lived for over 13 years but did not die a natural death. A year after I got married, I big dog came into my parent's yard and killed him! My dad was heartbroken since he loved the big boy.

The first cat I remember having was a short haired black cat named Elmer (Fudd), when I was 5 years old. My mom has pictures but I don't have any to scan and show you. Elmer was an indoor kitty and the day the movers came to pack our stuff (dad was in the navy) they opened the laundry door and he got out, even though they weren't supposed to touch it

Anyways, we had to leave and couldn't even stay an extra day to look for him, although we did keep in touch with our neighbors for several months and nobody ever saw any sign of him. It still makes me sad to think of him out there lost and helpless

He was the most amazing cat though and so very smart, so perhaps he found himself a new home. He used to love to take showers. Anytime you took one you had to shut him outside the bathroom or he would climb right in the shower with you and stand there looking up at the water falling down

I had a mom cat that had 2 litters at my house then moved on, but Fred was my first kitty. He was my constant companion for 18 years. He was a yellow tabby, but as he got old, he just looked kind of ragged and threadbare. You would never think to look at him that he was a pampered lap cat. He looked like a street cat, but he was always beautiful to me. I still kiss my soul kitty.There will never be another one like him.

George is my first kitty - he's been with me for 2 years now (he's 7). It took me a while to make that trip to the Humane Society (not that far from my house!). I've always had dogs and had no idea what to do with a cat. When I saw this big fuzzyball, I knew he would become my new best friend. I wasn't working when I brought him home and we spent lots of time together. He was there when my mom passed away last year - even head butting me in the middle of the night to let me know everything would be okay. Last November I brought Ellie home - George needed a friend, and I needed to be able to sleep though the night! I feel bad that Ellie seems to have taken over the house and some of George's favorite places - so I make sure he gets his cuddle time - well, until Ellie butts in that is

I grew up with dogs in a house where "the only good cat is a dead cat" was the mantra. When I graduated from graduate school, one of my friends and I moved into an apartment together. There were feral cats all over the complex. One cool, drizzly Saturday, this cat wandered onto our patio crying her head off, wet and starving. My roommate fed her, which I said was a major mistake. The roommate continued to feed her, and we soon adopted this stray cat. Named her Callie because we didn't know she really wasn't a calico, but a tortie. The roomie and I lived together for a year. Over that year, this kitty wormed her way into my heart. When we went our separate ways, she wanted to leave the kitty behind. I couldn't stand that and thought that was extremely irresponsible especially since Callie was declawed on the front paws, and eventho I didn't know beans about cats, I took Callie with me. Little did I know she was the thing my heart needed. She is the kitty of my heart and is more than precious to me. We're still together 11 years later! She's turned into a lap cat and a little snuggle bug.

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I got my first cat when I was 3 - my older sister begged my parents to get one so they agreed. He was a wonderful brown tabby named Charlie. He was very aggressive when he was younger because he was declawed and I may of been a little rough. Since all the cats my dad had ever owned were outdoor cats he thought nothing of roughing them up a bit. But later in life, as I grew up, I only gave him long pets and hugs and kisses. He became very sweet at that point but my mother go tired of him and gave him to my great-aunt who luckily I spent my weekends and every summer with. Each night I was there he stayed by my side, and when I went to bed he came with me and slept beside me until my great-aunt got up early in the morning. He lived till 20, and I'm sure he forgave me for all those times I put clothing on him, pulled his tail, and chased him down the halls.

This is a great thread!

The first cat I remember: I was playing outside when I was 4, using mud as improvised play-doh, when an orange tabby started playing with me too. My mom gave her some canadian bacon off of a hawaiian pizza and then was surprised when she stuck around. We called her Marmalade, and due to my mom's theory about fixing the males because they're cheaper, she and her offspring made a lot of kittens over the next five years...starting with two under a chair just a few days later. I still don't know where in her they were since she didn't look pregnant.

The first cat that was particularly mine: Out of the bottlefeeder litter when I was 16, each of the four kittens kind of took to a family member. Mine was the first one born, who picked up the name Little Horse because he was one of the biggest at first. At a few months old, though, he had what seemed to be a cold that wouldn't let go, and he was losing weight; I made a paste out of some of the herbs we used when humans in the family got sick, and fed some to him every day by smearing it on his tongue with my finger, until he got better.

I grew up with dogs. When I was first out on my own, and thinking it was time for a pet, I realized my lifestyle was inappropriate for a dog, and decided to try a kitty. My very first kitty was Chinook, and she was in my life for exactly five days. She died in my arms and I have not forgiven the vet who saw her three days before that, but that's another story. It took a few months before I was ready to try again, and this time Shasta came into my life and changed it forever. See her story here.

Our family growing up couldn't have cats due to a family member being allergic, they tried but it didn't work out. I grew up with many dogs and have dogs today. My first cat is my current kitty. Same for my significant other.

The first cat in my life was a cute silver tabby called Josephine, a cat that my brother brought home one day. Josephine was an indoor/outdoor cat who used to get stuck in trees. Back in those days (early 1960's), the fire department would come out to rescue cats from trees. She disappeared one day and we assumed she found a tree where we couldn't find her. My family had many cats while I was growing up.

But the first real love in my life was the cat I adopted when I got my first apartment. One day after moving in I went out looking, and found Hippocrates (Hipster for short), a grey and white boy that was my sole mate for 13 years. He survived my first marriage (even though my ex didn't like him), and set the ground work for my current marriage. When DH and I first started dating, I told him if he didn't like cats, then he could get lost. He didn't admit that he used to hate cats until he fell in love with Hipster. DH cried just as hard as I did when Hipster crossed from cancer.

Within a month after Hipster crossed, I was in a pet store buying dog bones, when what appeared out of no where? A grey and white cat (manx) that was nearly identical to Hipster (minus a tail). I knew there was no replacing Hipster, so went home and casually mentioned it to DH. He dragged me back to that store the next day and we came home with Max. Max became DH's first cat and the love of his life. Hipster and Max were totally different personalities, but they both filled our lives.