Monday's Question of the Day - October 12, 2015

How old were you when you got your first cat?

I was 2 when we adopted our first cat; Tinsel.  We got her around Christmas time so her full name was Christmas Tinsel; but she mostly went by Tinsel or Tinny.  She was a gray tuxedo with very faint tabby markings near her belly.  She was known for escaping our apartment and going into the neighbor's house and stealing her tea or wine.      When Tinsel was a kitten my mother, Grandmother and I took a trip to Disney.  My Grandparents lived just up the street; so my Grandpa stayed behind and took care of Tinsel.  Well apparently over the week we were gone Tinsel had a big growth spurt.  I actually remember breaking out into tears, climbing on a kitchen chair and sobbing "THAT'S NOT MY KITTY!!!!!"  after walking in the door.     

I guess my answer would be "cats have been in my life forever". Can't actually remember how old I was, but for as long as I can remember cats have always been a massive part of my life

I was 27 when I got my first cat.

17

I was six and drug home a beautiful calico kitten I named Miss Muffet. I kept her in the garage because I knew mom wouldn't let me keep her, that lasted all of one day! After much pleading and crying she became part of our family. I hid many animals in the garage, including mice to feed my snake, and a box full of mealy worms for my lizards, mom had lots of surprises and I heard a lot of yelling!

I was 2 years old and often visited a very nice elderly woman down the street. She fed me home-canned salty dill pickles and homemade bread (SO GOOD), and let me pet her kitties and play with the kittens. 

I remember particularly liking one small tortie kitten who really liked me, too. One day, she followed me home and I kept taking her back, but she kept following me. The nice lady said I could keep her, if it was okay with my parents. My father agreed (I couldn't believe it!) because he said we could use a mouser.  

I named her Kitty-Cat and she was never allowed inside. The first few days I was scared that my sweet little kitten would run away or get hurt, but she stuck around by the back door and grew up, and she was my constant childhood companion. She let me put her in doll dresses and bonnets, and put her in the doll carriage covered with blankets during the blazing heat of the Texas summers. She didn't mind.

I always wanted more than anything for her to come in and cuddle with me at night, but it was forbidden and I knew I would be beaten if I brought her in.

But one night when I was about 12 it was REALLY cold and I was so worried about her, I brought her in and she secretly slept on my chest, never moved the whole night. (If there had been cat hair found in the house, I would have been in big trouble.) When she wanted out in the morning, I opened the door and saw it had snowed! It was the first and only snow of my childhood, I remember that special night. Kitty-cat was such a comfort to me during my childhood.

When I was 7 months old, we moved to the farm. Of course, there were already established barn cats, but my Mom always had a house cat. Just prior to moving, her beautiful Persian passed away due to old age so, when things settled, she got another black Persian. The first one was named Keeker because when my brother was little he couldn't say the word 'kitty' - it came out as kee-ker. Naturally, Mom named the new cat Keeker II. 

I grew up with that cat and, even though he was Mom's cat, I claimed him as my own. I would NOT go to bed until he was with me. Sometimes he would leave the bed in middle of the night and seek refuge elsewhere and I remember sneaking out of bed many times and crawling behind the couch where he was sleeping on the heat vent and that is where Mom would find us in the morning. 

He was 19 when he passed away naturally of old age and he is buried in the backyard at the farm, just outside Mom's bedroom window near the Koi pond in a silk-lined cedar box that Dad had made for him. 

Years later, my sister got a black cat and, of course, his name was Keeker III.

It was a no-brainer that when I adopted my black DSH last year I didn't waste time coming up with a name for him. He is Keeker IV 

When I was in high school, I did a portrait of Keeker II and it hangs on my living room wall.

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Around 14 - it was when my parents and I moved to a new hobby farm, and the previous owner left their barn cat behind. She was a doll   she was pregnant and then had three kittens.  I researched about cats and babies a heck of a lot during that time.

I was around cats many times before, and loved them. 

18 when we adopted Miagi. 19 when I adopted Tiger and 24 when we brought Angel home.

I was 3 when I got my first cat. Some of our neighbours decided to add a big to to their household, and their cat took one look and moved in with us! I named her Pussy Willow, because she was white and soft like the pussy willows were. She quickly became Willow for everyday use. She was a funny old girl. Already an adult when she moved in, she was very touchy and would hit out with little to no warning (and bear in mind my mum grew up with cats too, and knew all the warning signs). I was half scared of her all her life, and almost never interacted with her beyond putting food out. I learned a VERY healthy respect for cats growing up with her :lol3: (as did many neighbourhood dogs, who used to rush past our drive before she could ambush them!)

For my 6th birthday, we got a pair of BSH boy kittens. They were my first experience of being able to play with and cuddle cats. One (Amber, because of his amber eyes) was very much my cat and would sleep with me every night, as well as being surprisingly tolerant of being taken for walks in a doll's pram. I don't think I ever tried to dress him up though.

I was 13

i think i was between 9 and 10 years old when my aunt gave me a burmese mix kitten, who i named Suzie. she had beautiful brown and red-ish fur, and was a sweet and gentle girl.

I was 9 when my sister and I got the neighborhood stray to follow us home. We think that she was either the outdoor cat of someone whose house burnt down and they left her, or she was a stray that they were feeding.  She was really skinny when we found her and she was hungry enough to eat the only food that we had on hand, a fortune cookie.  I've always loved animals, although we only ever had fish growing up.  I remember wishing that I was Snow White so that animals wouldn't be afraid of me so that I could pet them.  We rented a house that didn't allow non-caged pets and my parents were too practical and we were too poor to provide for an animal.  Anyways, my sister and I decided that if the cat HAPPENED to follow us home, there was nothing they could do to stop it.  I named her Nelly (not after the rapper, she was the NEW stray in the neighborhood that we've seen, NEW+ly=Nelly to my 9 year old mind) and she was never really tamed or fully ours.  We fed her whatever scraps we could sneak out and she came to trust us, but she wouldn't let us pick her up and would leave on her own terms.  One day, she went missing for a few days and, worried, we left a box lined with a towel for her.  The next day, we discovered that she had brought her kittens to us!  (Didn't even know she was pregnant.)  We all picked out our very own kitten and mine was an all black female that I named Midnight.  I don't remember too much about her other then she was very tolerant of being held like a baby and being cuddled, etc.  As kids, we did our best to take care of them without money or help from adults.  My parents didn't have any extra money laying around for cat food or vet visits, and I worried about my sweet kitties so much.  We couldn't keep them inside, couldn't feed them on a regular basis, and couldn't provide any vet care for them.  I know it sounds like we were terrible people, but we were seriously poor. They didn't live long lives and I am still haunted to this day about how I couldn't take care of my Midnight.  I got my second cat when I was 14 and she has been spoiled crazy.  I have always bought her high end cat food that I had researched extensively, got her spayed with my summer job money, forced my parents to take her with us when we moved, and she has always been an indoor only cat.  I don't know if it sounds crazy but I still feel guilty about not being able to properly take care of them.

30

44

Up to the age of 8-9 I was TERRIFIED of cats and dogs. We went to a farm for our summer holidays and my mum must have told Mrs. Farmer about my fear as she kept dumping cats into my arms to take to Mr. Farmer who had no idea what was going on. While we were there a cat gave birth and we brought a kitten home with us. After some time he disappeared but by then my fear was gone. When I was 22 we got a tortoise cat and when we took her to the vet and we asked what sex she was the vet laughed. She died when I was already here. I cried and cried and lit a memorial candle for her. Her name was stewball!

I can't remember a time growing up when we didn't have a cat. The earliest cat I do remember was a grey tabby called Tiger. She loved to ride in the car and when we moved she would sit on the back of the front seat and look out the window. She would also sit in the back window so she could look out.

I got my first cat in February of this year, so less than a month before I turned 23. My dad violently hated cats, so even though I always wanted one I was never able to adopt a kitty until I moved out. Sometimes my friends would ask me to come over and I'd be more excited to pet their cats than to see my actual friends haha.

It was for my 10th birthday.

24. Just last year.

Miriette said:

Sometimes my friends would ask me to come over and I'd be more excited to pet their cats than to see my actual friends haha.

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I'm still like this now!