Question of the Day, Friday, April 5

Morning guys!

Today's question may be a little difficult for some of us.......

Tell me about your

 kitty. Boy or girl? How old? What makes him or her your special baby?

I don't care how long your post is....I'd really like to read about your special kitties.

Our RB Banshee was always my little girl. She was about five weeks old when we went to the house to look at the kittens. I literally pulled her away from her mama's breast. She came home with me and she spoiled me rotten. We spent hours in the chair with her in my lap....I would hold her like a baby and she'd sleep for hours in my arms. Rick would come home from work and we'd be in the chair...he'd just shake his head.  I'd take her to visit my parents and she and Ebony, my parents' black Cocker spaniel would romp through the house. When it got quiet, I'd go looking for them and I'd find them cuddled together in my parents' bed. At dinner, sometimes Banshee would start fussing. I'd leave the table, pick her up and cuddle her in the chair. Once she was asleep, I'd put her on the sofa, wrapped in her blankie and then go out and finish dinner. Made my father crazy, but it's the way it was.

One afternoon, Mom was holding Banshee. I had taken Ebony outside to pee. When we came back inside, I went over to Mom and held out my arms to Banshee and said, "C'mere, baby girl." And she held out her front paws right over to me and meowed for me to pick her up. Mom looked at me and said, "That cat is spoiled." And I said, "No, she's not. I am."

Every night, Banshee and I would go for a walk around the yard. She was content to be in my arms, but she liked to sniff at all the trees and the flowers. When it rained, we took an umbrella. When it was cold, I bundled her in her blankie and we went outside anyway. She went with me to our family reunions....I ate at my own table, though, because nobody wanted a cat at the table....and I wouldn't leash her to a post just to eat dinner. When I did my college internship, I'd come home on Friday night for the weekend; Banshee would meet me at the steps just inside the door. And as I would reach down to pick her up, she'd turn her back to me, just to let me know that she wasn't happy! Once I properly groveled, then she would jump into my arms and welcome me home. That continued the entire semester I was gone. I used to visit my GF in NY for a weekend, not often, but every once in a while; I'd leave on Thursday or Friday morning and drive up. Then I'd come home on Sunday. Well, I can't tell you how many times Rick called me and said that the Queen B was in a funk because I had left. Banshee was used to Rick leaving on trips....as long as I didn't start any packing, she was fine. But as soon as I'd pull clothes, then she got upset.

She slept in my arms, between Rick and me almost every night of her life. If I was sleeping when she came to bed, she'd sit in the middle of the bed behind my head and purr. If I didn't awaken, she would start patting my head to awaken me, still purring. Rick said that he actually saw me roll over, murmur to Banshee, pull her into my arms, and pull the bed covers over us...without ever waking up. If the bed covers were down off of her during the night, she would sit up and pat my face until I pulled her back down with me and put the covers back over her. Then she'd go back to sleep.

Banshee ruled the other cats. Actually, she ruled the whole house. The Queen B was the alpha cat and we all knew it. When I brought Amber Louise into the house as a wee kitten, Banshee made sure that Amber knew that she was the boss. Then she left her alone. She tried the same thing with Da Pumpkin Boy, but Pumpkin didn't care. He did what he wanted anyway; as long as he didn't get too sassy with her, she allowed him to misbehave.

Banshee always initiated clumping. She would lay down somewhere and, before long, all the other cats were there, too. We have pictures of them all clumping together....on the bed, on the couch, on a chair. Wherever Banshee was, that's where the other cats were, too. She loved to lay flat out on her back and show us her beautiful belly. If she decided she wasn't getting enough attention, she'd flop over and show that belly. Then she'd meow to let us know that we needed to pay attention to her. And we always did.

She was our Chicken Hawk. I'd put a chicken in the oven and when it started to smell, Banshee would come out to the kitchen and sit in front of the oven until the chicken was done. Then as Rick was carving, she would meow until she got her share. At Thanksgiving, she was a character....imagine sitting in front of the oven for hours waiting for the turkey.  But that's what she did. She shared a banana with Rick every morning, but only if the banana was a little unripe. Once it got too ripe, she wanted no part of it. She loved cantaloupe; she could be fast asleep back in the bedroom, but as soon as I'd slice into a cantaloupe, she'd run into the kitchen so fast, she'd slide around the corner. Same with mango....she adored mango. And Shredded Wheat.

When she developed thyroid problems and we had to give her pills, she quickly decided that might as well just take them. We started out by me holding her and Rick putting the pill in her mouth. And I would always say, "Open!" One day, she was sitting on the back of the chair and I decided to try to pill her myself. I walked over and said, "Banshee, open!" And she did! I was so surprised I just stood there! And Rick said, 'Throw the pill in her mouth, Pam, throw the pill in her mouth!" I did, she swallowed and that was that. That's how she took her pills from then on. I never, EVER had a cat who opened her mouth for meds. She was really good with pills, not so great with liquid meds, though.

My post is long, but the Queen B was a special girl. Please tell me about your special cat. I'd really love to read about them.

A very long time ago, before I'd discovered my love affair with cats, my mother brought home a Burmese..   She had bought her from a breeder who no longer wanted her.

After a few months Woosie became very ill and mum called me.. The vet determined that she was about 5 years old and it was likely her litters hadn't survived. And she had FIV.  The vet said it would be best to euthanise her.  The thought appalled me, so I took her home with me and found that saline washes of her eyes and nostrils, steaming, bach flower remedies and a good diet worked wonders.  Woos was with me for another 8 years.

Woosie hated to be left at home and would come running out to the car and jump in whenever I went anywhere.  In fact she sat on my shoulder (yes, I know, not the done thing) when I moved across state in Tasmania, and did the entire 2,400km trip with me when I moved to Queensland.  She was the most social cat ever... people, other cats, dogs,  she would even go and sit on the fenceposts and sniff the noses of the cows down on a property I looked after for a while.  She had absolutely no problem adapting to new places.. it was all about the people.

I used to hold meditation retreats at the country place, and Woosie had her own cushion.. When everyone sat down, so did she, and wouldn't get up till we did.

I would go on picnics with friends.. she would get in the car, follow us on the walks, come when called.

When it was time for her to go, I lay in my yoga room with her and chanted the mantras we do after meditation.  If I stopped, she would slowly open her eyes and look and me. I'd start again and she'd close them.  We stayed like that until the vet arrived and let my lovely girl go.

She's buried under the frangipani tree that has just flowered so beautifully.  I miss her so much.

You know, it was impossible to determine a 'favorite', so i'm going to describe both of my boys and my little girl who is now an angel for this last 4 months.  First my little girl, she was a diva, a tiny princess who kept both boys in their place, and ruled our household. She only tolerated so much petting and the claws came out when it went beyond what she wanted. She was a beautiful 'brown tiger' tabby with coal black pads, mouth, and  skin. She had beautiful red markings in the sunlight and always rolled onto her back to show her red tummy when she wanted attention. She had the biggest yellow eyes and I often called her my little 'owl face'. Her nose was so tiny and she had the most beautiful little dish face. I was her favorite and she always claimed my lap before the 'boys' could get there. She loved being covered with a blanket and had her heated bed on our bed. She slept next to me for ten years. She died in December after following me to get the mail and I did not know she was behind me. It was the most traumatic event  in my life and I will forever see her being hit by the speeding car and being helpless to do anything about it. She is buried on her favorite spot by the lilacs and will be forever in my heart. Next is Burt, my beautiful big grey and white boy. He weighs in at 14 - 15 lbs and has the thickest double short coat I have ever seen. He has a beautiful round face and big green eyes and the softest, tiniest meow out of that big body. His paws are huge, he's big boned and long. He runs to the food bowl whenever we enter the kitchen and demands "butt rubs" at his food bowl. We have to rub him along his back and near his tail at least 10 times a day. He is our senior at 12 years old,and is the most laid back cat we have had. He is on our laps as soon as one of us sits down, and when we are standing he constantly rubs on our legs. My husband says he is a 'mamas boy' though cause he will leave his lap to get onto mine. He has an endearing side to side 'waddle' when he runs towards you and follows us around like a dog. Then comes our 'baby', 5 year old Casper, or BoBo as we call him because he is such a clown. He is loud, he has ADHD (I swear) and can be a bully at times to Burt. He always looks to see if we are watching before he jumps on Burt or knocks something off the table, then when we look away he'll be naughty,  then race away like the wind before we can even get up. I kept him out of a litter that his feral mother had in our pumphouse because he was pure white and was the first to be tamed and come to us. He is now colored like a flamepoint Siamese and has the most beautiful blue eyes. He also has the long nose, the big ears, and the skinny lanky build of a Siamese. He INSISTS on taking a 'tour' of the backyard and will loudly meow, jump up on us, 'nip' our feet or elbows, and knock things off of tables until we take him out. But he makes us laugh and leads us into the bedroom every night so he can curl up next to us for the night. He's also my alarm clock and will actually keep walking on me until I get up. I wake up countless times with his eyes inches from mine!  Those are my babies, and like children they definitely have their own personalities and differences. I love cats and it breaks my heart when someone is cruel or they are abandoned or living on their own. I feed and care for ferals even though our city has a law against it, and pay for several adoptions every year at our no kill shelter. I also give for their 'adopt a kennel' program which adopts out any animal in that kennel for free for a year. I have a special place in my heart for the 'seniors' at the shelter, they are so scared and sad. It breaks my heart to see a overweight older cat huddled in a corner with 'owner died' written on the card.  When I retire in a few years I plan on helping at the shelter, and will definitely volunteer for the cat rooms! Good luck with your kitties everyone, they are all special and beautiful!

My RB girl Morning Glory (Called just Glory for short) was my soul kitty.  I picked her out when she was a tiny newborn.  She was born to one of my Mother's cousin's cats. We went for a weekend visit and the Mama cat let me pet her kittens.  (I might cry here...)  Glory was the only one with stripes.  We lived a few hours away so when she was big enough Mom's cousin brought her to us.  We had named my first cat Tinsel because we got her around Christmas.  So Morning Glory's name came from some sparklers we would get in the summer time.  She was a Memorial Day baby.  

Glory was very skittish.  She'd jump up in the air at the slightest thing.  Mom called her "Beans" as in jumping beans.  She also had the nickname "Booger" because she had a brown splotch on her nose. hehe  She was a great cat.  She slept with me every night and spent most of her days in my room.  I was in the 4th grade when we adopted her.  She had her favorite hiding spots.  One was on a wire shelf I had stuffed animals on.  Whenever I'd go to pet her there I'd end up shocking her and several musical stuffed animals would go off!    She loved to chase these fuzzy hair elastics I had and she had a tiny stuffed bear that she always loved for some reason.  I packed that away with her things when she passed.  I didn't know it till afterward; but she apparently had a heart murmur.  I was in college locally so living at home.  I came home one afternoon to get ready for a doctor's appointment.  Glory had been in the yard where she would hide between the iris' and Mom let her inside through the garage.  She did her usual "dash" from the door to my room and went to hop onto the chair at my desk (another hiding spot) and just that fast she was gone.  I'll never forget the sound; it still makes my hair stand on end.  Mom and I rushed her to the vet and they tried to revive her; but it didn't work.  They think she'd had a heart attack.  She was only 9.  I was devastated.  I never even wore the shirt I had on that day again.  It was still new; I just couldn't because it reminded me of what happened.  

But there were so many good times with her before that.  Tinsel was my Mom's cat (we lost her several years before, she was older than Glory by a good 6 years I think).  But Glory was mine!  She liked my Mom too; but never liked any of my step-siblings when they came along and not even my friends.  She wasn't mean; she'd just hide.  She was rarely naughty (once she grew out of the night crazies).  When she was little she'd chase Tinsel across our house during the night.  Mom and I lived in a single wide trailer and my bedroom and bed were at one end.  Mom's closet at the other. She'd bounce off the closet door and come race across my bed AND ME!! to bounce off that wall and keep going!  I learned to pull my legs up fast in my sleep.  

Just to let you all know, the spelling and grammar, as well as, the vocabulary in this post, maybe, poorer then normal. The reason, for this is, I am literally (sobbing).

The best cat, that, I ever had the pleasure of spending time with, to date, was my HP (high percentage) F1 Bengal. Her name was Taro. Most F1 Bengals, like the Asian Leopard Cat (Prionailurus bengalensis)/ALC are very nervous. By nervous, I mean, like a true domestic feral, with, the physical dexterity and grace of any exotic cat. Now, most retired foundation (F1-F4) Bengals are NOT suited to a pet home. Since, many will spray, just, like the pure exotic and are just too nervous, for, a pet home.

So, when, a foundation Bengal breeder called me to ask, if, I wanted an F1 that would not breed, I was hesitant to say yes. But, I did want to go and look her. The breeder did say, she, was people friendly. I was thinking, people friendly for an F1 Bengal/ALC. Well, when, I first saw Taro, she, was in the front of her enclosure rubbing on the wire. I did find that surprising. I figured, she, would be hiding in her den/hide box. But, I was NOT convinced, that, I wanted the cat. Yes, she, was pretty. She looked like an ALC. However, I have never wanted an ALC since eight (8) pounds of small exotic cat, that, just wants to hide, isn't appealing to me. Anyway, the breeder said, just go in and sit down with her. I was thinking, that, this cat, was, just going to run and hide. However, I did want a closer look at Taro. So, the minute, I walked into the enclosure, she climbed up my body purring. Once, Taro, was on my head/shoulder, she, was licking me and purring. Of course, I could not refuse her.

That is when, I asked the breeder, why, they where not keeping Taro for breeding. The breeder said, Taro, would not mate with any F5/SBT tom. She was offered, over, 30 different males, in the three years. While, Taro, was not aggressive with her perspective mates, she, would not allow them to touch her. Since, Taro, was exceptionally human friendly, the breeder wanted her to have a home with people. Which, is VERY rare, for F1 Bengals. But, Taro was quite a character. However, the breeder could just give her to anyone. Since, F1 hybrids, are not allowed in every state/county that lowered her chances of getting a home. Another HUGE issue, was, Taro sprayed. Any foundation hybrid (Bengal, Chausie, Safari, Savannah) can spray. A late spay F1 Bengal, was, "almost guaranteed" to mark to "high heaven". I was aware of this. But, I had a tiled and lexanned room with attached enclosure, from, when my Serval was alive. I figured, at worst, I would just keep her in that room and "have the mop bucket lifestyle" like I did with my Serval.

Anyway, I payed the breeder for the spay and was told, that, I would pick her up a few weeks. Well, three (3) weeks later, Taro, was still as sweet and loving. I found that to be a relief. Since, I was a tad concerned, that, her "touchy sweetness" might not be so sweet, without, the "hormones". I was very very wrong. Anyway, I walked into her enclosure with a cat carrier to take her home in. I was thinking, not only will this cat "hate" me for a while, how, am I going to shove about ten pounds of pure muscle into this carrier. The breeder said, just open the carrier and she will walk in. I just and said "domestic cats" do not do that. Let alone a 75% F1 Bengal. The breeder said, just wait "non believer". Taro, wants out of her and in your house. Well, I opened the crate and Taro RAN into it. She just sat on the towel and purred. I was astonished.

So, the next part of the adventure, was, driving 15 hours with a HP F1 Bengal. Well, not only did Taro not "complain" the whole ride, she, did not "mess" in the crate. To say, I was astonished AGAIN, would have been the understatement of the year. I even called and told the breeder. The breeder said, " I told you, Taro, was amazing and you would love her".

It was true. I did love her. I wasn't even the least bit upset about the thought, of, spending the next ten years (Taro, was, about three, when I adopted her) "cleaning up" after her. Yes, I was expecting her to spay and wasn't expecting her to use a litter box. So, I get her home and into, what, I figured, would be her home. Well, after, exploring the outside enclosure and the inside room, she, walked to the door, that, lead to the rest of my home and "meowed". ALC and foundation Bengals, make, crazy noises. I figured, there, was no harm in letting her explore the rest of my home. Under, DIRECT supervision. Since, I did not want her destroying my whole home.

Well, to my surprise, Taro, went straight for my bathroom and to the toilet. Since, ALC to like to play and void (urinate and defaecate) in water, I figured this was going to be very messy. So, I shut the bathroom door and lifted up the toilet seat. To my shock and amazement, Taro, put one paw calmly into the the clean toilet water and then turned around urinated and dedicated into the toilet. I was shocked just shocked. Yes, ALC naturally use water. But, it is normally, something you TEACH a F1 Bengal. Well, after, Taro used the toilet she calmly jumped down (did NOT play in the "dirty water") and walked to the bathroom door. I said, okay, you are smart but, can you do that again? She jumped right onto my shoulder and looked me dead in the eyes and purred.

I let Taro explore the rest of my home, under my supervision. Once, her, curiosity was satisfied, Taro, went back to her "room". Of course, I went with her and "hangout" with her till bed time. Around bedtime, I went to leave and I could tell she was upset. But, I did not want her "messing up" my house. So, I locked her in her room and left her with access to her enclosure. So, around, 2am I heard crazy noises coming from her room. I figured something scared her. So, I went into her room. Well, she, ran out of her room like a shot. I was thinking ahhh typical scared wacko ALC/F1 Bengal. Boy, was I wrong. Taro, RAN to the toilet again. I lifted  the toilet seat and yet again, Taro, urinated. I was astonished. After Taro used the toilet, she, walked right into my bedroom and curled up on bed. Needless to say, yes, I let Taro sleep with me.

I was still thing, wow, she is an amazing F1 Bengal. But, she can't be a house pet. She will destroy my home. The next morning, after breakfast, Taro, did the same thing (using the toilet). I was getting more and more astonished. I also found it odd, that, Taro, wanted to be in my home and NOT her enclosure. That was nothing like my Serval, Servals, in general are FAR MORE SOCIAL then ALC/F1 Bengal!

Lets speed the story up a few weeks, Taro, has no accidents, does not spray, and as long as, I keep the toilet seat up, uses it like a person. She breaks nothing and chews on NOTHING. Exotics and hybrids are beyond destructive and are prone to pica (eating of non food items). Most surprising of all, NEVER, wants to go outside again.

Taro, loved EVERYONE. She ran up to every person, that, ever entered my home. Again, this is NOT normal. Most F1 Bengals, like ALC, are terrified of EVERYTHING! Not Taro, she loved car rides, going to pet stores, where, people wanted to see and pet her. Taro LOVED the attention and jumped from person to person to be touched!

I could go on and on. But, I won't, I am sure, you all get the idea, why, Taro, was so special. Please do NOT get an F1 Bengal and expect this. Most F1 Bengals, DO NOT make good pets for the average person. Or, even me for that matter me. While F1 Savannahs, Chausie and Safari can make great pets, for, the right person and or me, F1 Bengals, do NOT. I can not explain, why, Taro was so good. It was just her nature and not something, I can explain or hope to replicate.

How do I love my Grover...let me count thy ways  lol!

My kitten Bailey needed a buddy so I went to look at the shelter kitties. After holding a few of them I came to a little brown tabby, he was about 12 weeks old and so soft, relaxed and snuggly. When I picked him up he laid his head on my shoulder like a baby. He started making biscuits and purring. I knew he was the right kitty for me when I tried to put him down and he twisted his little body around to snuggle back onto my shoulder

Ohh... What makes all 4 of mine special is that all of them are rescues and I just knew we were destined to be together. I have one boy cat named Ramsey and 3 girl cats named 'Bitz, Hoot and Swiffer. All have their own unique personalities, needs and wants. One thing they all have in common is their love of mealtime :lol3:

Thank you, all of you for your stories. I truly enjoyed reading about your cats and what makes them special to you. I know that all cats are special and that's true. But every once in a while, that one little boy or girl comes along and just creates a little spot in your heart that's all his or hers. It just happens.

Thank you.