Hi everyone!
It was kind of dumb luck that I fell into this site, I was looking for information on kitten growth and found the answer posted here! It looked like an interesting site and a great place for info and sharing with other fur baby lovers, so I 'signed on the dotted line'
As you can see by the name, I am a MAJOR cat lover. I've been around cats my entire life, starting out in the country where we had a yard full of mousers to keep the mice and rats out. I still mourn my first cat, a beautiful pure black fine, if somewhat snobby, sophisticated lady named SnowFlake. Yes, black cat named SnowFlake. That is what you get when you let an eight year old girl with a slightly off-kilter sense of humor name the family pet. Anyway, we always had one indoor cat that protected the house from any mice that may have gotten in, starting with SnowFlake, on through Baby, KittyKittyKitty and the last Sargent Kitty. My little brother named the last, don't blame me. lol
Then came the sad years - the first years on my own in apts where I couldn't have pets beside fish and birds. I was lethal to fish (and plants) and birds were so noisy and messy I was considering parakeet noodle soup when a friend offered them room and board in exchange for my sparing their lives. So Prince and Princess lived to poo all over the place another day.
It took about 15 years for me to find a place where we could have a cat, and then it was only because it was suggested as therapy (long story) for my daughter. We went to a vet clinic who did double time as a shelter/adoption agency and that is where we found our big boy Spooky Boo - aka Boo, Boobles, , Boobers, Boo Boo, and Sir Fat Booey. He was a very, very big boy. After we had him three years, another man came into our lives, this one wandered in off the streets and we christened him DaKoda Weasley - aka Da Da or just Da.
These cats LITERALLY saved my life. I woke up one day not feeling well and went back to bed, my daughter was away over night and around dinner time they woke me up to be fed, literally, batting me in the face with their paws. While I was feeding them I felt a super sharp pain in my side, like piercing me with a burning pitch fork. But being such a heavy sleeper, I would have slept through it. Instead, I knew something was seriously wrong and called an ambulance. Turns out my appendix had ruptured. Thing is, I think on some level they knew something was wrong. A week later when I came home from the hospital Da refused to leave my bed. He followed me every where and when I left and came home he was sitting right by the door, waiting. At night, he slept wrapped around my head on the pillow.
A year later, serious black mold was discovered in our apartment building and the whole building was condemned. It was October in Minnesota, it was nearly impossible to find an apartment, let alone one that would allow cats. I felt like a part of me was torn open when we had to give Boo and Da Da away. Da actually did that kitty scream thing when he was taken away. I told myself they were going to a better place, a farm with lots of room to play and have room to run free instead of being cooped up. I mourned their loss for months, well no, I think I am still mourning them to this day. I knew I could never have them back, it would be unfair to them, but the minute our lease was up we started looking for an apartment that allowed cats.
It has taken five years, but finally last month we moved into an apartment that allows therapy animals! 17 days ago, we brought our new baby home, a six month old little girl, pure black that we named Belle A. Trix. I wanted to name her Snow Ball, but my daughter put her foot down. She liked Trix, I wanted Trixie. As a compromise, we added on the Belle A. because we are big Harry Potter fan's and it is kind of fun to watch people try to work out the meaning of her name. lol
Were still getting used to each other, and getting into a routine, but she is already spoiled pretty well. It's funny, we spent a small fortune on toys for her, and in the end her favorite toy is a little wad of yarn I bundled together and then tied in the middle, like a pom pom without the ends being cut apart. KInd of like a kid at christmas who only wants to play with the box.
Anyway, this has gotten way, way too long - but this is my story. I wish I could say I feel complete again, but the holes in my heart left by losing Boo and Da Da will always be a part of me. But thats ok, it just means that I really really loved them. Thing is, the more I get to know Trix, the bigger my heart gets to hold the love I have for her. I'm praying for a long and happy life together - and that she eventually decides to sleep with me instead of my daughter. =)
It was kind of dumb luck that I fell into this site, I was looking for information on kitten growth and found the answer posted here! It looked like an interesting site and a great place for info and sharing with other fur baby lovers, so I 'signed on the dotted line'
As you can see by the name, I am a MAJOR cat lover. I've been around cats my entire life, starting out in the country where we had a yard full of mousers to keep the mice and rats out. I still mourn my first cat, a beautiful pure black fine, if somewhat snobby, sophisticated lady named SnowFlake. Yes, black cat named SnowFlake. That is what you get when you let an eight year old girl with a slightly off-kilter sense of humor name the family pet. Anyway, we always had one indoor cat that protected the house from any mice that may have gotten in, starting with SnowFlake, on through Baby, KittyKittyKitty and the last Sargent Kitty. My little brother named the last, don't blame me. lol
Then came the sad years - the first years on my own in apts where I couldn't have pets beside fish and birds. I was lethal to fish (and plants) and birds were so noisy and messy I was considering parakeet noodle soup when a friend offered them room and board in exchange for my sparing their lives. So Prince and Princess lived to poo all over the place another day.
It took about 15 years for me to find a place where we could have a cat, and then it was only because it was suggested as therapy (long story) for my daughter. We went to a vet clinic who did double time as a shelter/adoption agency and that is where we found our big boy Spooky Boo - aka Boo, Boobles, , Boobers, Boo Boo, and Sir Fat Booey. He was a very, very big boy. After we had him three years, another man came into our lives, this one wandered in off the streets and we christened him DaKoda Weasley - aka Da Da or just Da.
These cats LITERALLY saved my life. I woke up one day not feeling well and went back to bed, my daughter was away over night and around dinner time they woke me up to be fed, literally, batting me in the face with their paws. While I was feeding them I felt a super sharp pain in my side, like piercing me with a burning pitch fork. But being such a heavy sleeper, I would have slept through it. Instead, I knew something was seriously wrong and called an ambulance. Turns out my appendix had ruptured. Thing is, I think on some level they knew something was wrong. A week later when I came home from the hospital Da refused to leave my bed. He followed me every where and when I left and came home he was sitting right by the door, waiting. At night, he slept wrapped around my head on the pillow.
A year later, serious black mold was discovered in our apartment building and the whole building was condemned. It was October in Minnesota, it was nearly impossible to find an apartment, let alone one that would allow cats. I felt like a part of me was torn open when we had to give Boo and Da Da away. Da actually did that kitty scream thing when he was taken away. I told myself they were going to a better place, a farm with lots of room to play and have room to run free instead of being cooped up. I mourned their loss for months, well no, I think I am still mourning them to this day. I knew I could never have them back, it would be unfair to them, but the minute our lease was up we started looking for an apartment that allowed cats.
It has taken five years, but finally last month we moved into an apartment that allows therapy animals! 17 days ago, we brought our new baby home, a six month old little girl, pure black that we named Belle A. Trix. I wanted to name her Snow Ball, but my daughter put her foot down. She liked Trix, I wanted Trixie. As a compromise, we added on the Belle A. because we are big Harry Potter fan's and it is kind of fun to watch people try to work out the meaning of her name. lol
Were still getting used to each other, and getting into a routine, but she is already spoiled pretty well. It's funny, we spent a small fortune on toys for her, and in the end her favorite toy is a little wad of yarn I bundled together and then tied in the middle, like a pom pom without the ends being cut apart. KInd of like a kid at christmas who only wants to play with the box.
Anyway, this has gotten way, way too long - but this is my story. I wish I could say I feel complete again, but the holes in my heart left by losing Boo and Da Da will always be a part of me. But thats ok, it just means that I really really loved them. Thing is, the more I get to know Trix, the bigger my heart gets to hold the love I have for her. I'm praying for a long and happy life together - and that she eventually decides to sleep with me instead of my daughter. =)
