Hi, nice to meet lots of cat lovers. I presently have three of them, along with a dog, gecko, fish and a man. 
Our first beast, Melvin aka Bud aka My Kitty, Kitty, Kitty was a stray in our neighbourhood, four summers ago. He has russian blue in him, so his coat is extra thick. He enjoyed visits to a few households and the odd treat here and there. When I saw the first worm segment on his back end, I decided he needed responsible people and a vet visit. He's called our house his bad weather haven ever since. He eats a lot of wildlife, so we keep him up to date on all his shots, pills, etc., and since he was a stray for so long and has lots of cattitude, we can't keep him restrained, so he roams lots. He's well known around here. lol
One year after *acquiring* Melvin, my daughter moved back home with an adorable calico kitten. We called her Kali and she stole my heart. A year later she moved into an apartment and my kitten was gone. The house felt empty. It was two weeks before Christmas and the wrong season to be looking for kittens to rescue in eastern Ontario. No one had any. Then a friend told me a friend of hers who rescues cats had just found a litter of three, living in a field, in the snow. I looked at the pictures she emailed me of the three little bugs and Boy found a home with us. A beautiful mackeral/tuxedo front tabby with eyeliner and lipstick, he stole my heart. He was soooo terrified, because he was a feral cat, he had no idea what people were, let alone the car he traveled an hour and a half in to get here. I held him, wrapped in a towel on my lap, whispering softly to him all the way home. He was so stressed he peed blood the first night here. We didn't see him much the first few weeks, he was soo timid. I'd come in the door and say, "Where's my little boy, where's my kitten, come here my little boy.", he eventually started to look forward to me calling him and he started answering to my call. Thus the name Boy. People think he's far too pretty and gentle to be a boy, they think he's a girl, so, even better reason to call him Boy.
I decided for some silly reason when Boy was about a year and a half old, that I needed a dog. I didn't find a dog I was interested in rescuing in my area, then a friend who had just come home from vacation told me to check out potcakes. I was intrigued. Brindi is a rescued street dog from Turks and Caicos. The foster family who brought her back to health before they shipped her to me called her Brindy because of her brindled coat and since I'd brought her from sandy beaches, clear water and palm trees to a cold, wet Canadian spring I hadn't the heart to change her name, just the spelling. There are no humane societies on the smaller islands, so private individuals have banded together to find homes in the US and Canada. They send them with couriers, tourists returning home, to new owners awaiting them at the airport. She has fit right in and has enjoyed Canada for just over a year now. She's just under a year and a half old.
Then, when I thought, no more pets, no, no, NO! *sigh* While sitting on my front porch last August, I heard a plaintive mewing from across the street. I went over and looked and looked, then I mewed myself. Down out of a small crab apple tree my latest acquisition scrambled. Swizzle looked so clean and seemed so well socialized, I knew she had to belong to someone. So, I kept her for a few days and looked for her owner. After I fell in love with my little ginger/tuxedo front girl (in a very short time lol) I discovered some jerk had moved out of an apartment around the corner from us, leaving a cat with one month old kittens behind. I was hooked.
DotZilla joined us about a year ago, he's a leopard gecko and he spends most of his time lying around. He's entertaining when he's hunting crickets and shedding, then eating his own skin. He's pretty cool, but he sure can make a noise if you scare him. lol Who knew something so tiny could scream so loud. lol
The fish are really just entertainment for the cats. I used to have a lovely nine inch long weather loach, she looked like an eel, kind of, and she was about seven years old, she would have lived another thirteen possibly, but I stupidly introduced another fish to the tank. She became ill and I had to euthanize her. I miss her a lot, she'd swim through my fingers and eat from my hand. When we move to the new house and I clean and reorganize the aquariums, I'll look for another like her, though I doubt I'll find another FishyFishy.
There, those are my pets in a nutshell. All are happy and well adjusted animals with wonderful and very different personalities. I can't imagine life without them.
Our first beast, Melvin aka Bud aka My Kitty, Kitty, Kitty was a stray in our neighbourhood, four summers ago. He has russian blue in him, so his coat is extra thick. He enjoyed visits to a few households and the odd treat here and there. When I saw the first worm segment on his back end, I decided he needed responsible people and a vet visit. He's called our house his bad weather haven ever since. He eats a lot of wildlife, so we keep him up to date on all his shots, pills, etc., and since he was a stray for so long and has lots of cattitude, we can't keep him restrained, so he roams lots. He's well known around here. lol
One year after *acquiring* Melvin, my daughter moved back home with an adorable calico kitten. We called her Kali and she stole my heart. A year later she moved into an apartment and my kitten was gone. The house felt empty. It was two weeks before Christmas and the wrong season to be looking for kittens to rescue in eastern Ontario. No one had any. Then a friend told me a friend of hers who rescues cats had just found a litter of three, living in a field, in the snow. I looked at the pictures she emailed me of the three little bugs and Boy found a home with us. A beautiful mackeral/tuxedo front tabby with eyeliner and lipstick, he stole my heart. He was soooo terrified, because he was a feral cat, he had no idea what people were, let alone the car he traveled an hour and a half in to get here. I held him, wrapped in a towel on my lap, whispering softly to him all the way home. He was so stressed he peed blood the first night here. We didn't see him much the first few weeks, he was soo timid. I'd come in the door and say, "Where's my little boy, where's my kitten, come here my little boy.", he eventually started to look forward to me calling him and he started answering to my call. Thus the name Boy. People think he's far too pretty and gentle to be a boy, they think he's a girl, so, even better reason to call him Boy.
I decided for some silly reason when Boy was about a year and a half old, that I needed a dog. I didn't find a dog I was interested in rescuing in my area, then a friend who had just come home from vacation told me to check out potcakes. I was intrigued. Brindi is a rescued street dog from Turks and Caicos. The foster family who brought her back to health before they shipped her to me called her Brindy because of her brindled coat and since I'd brought her from sandy beaches, clear water and palm trees to a cold, wet Canadian spring I hadn't the heart to change her name, just the spelling. There are no humane societies on the smaller islands, so private individuals have banded together to find homes in the US and Canada. They send them with couriers, tourists returning home, to new owners awaiting them at the airport. She has fit right in and has enjoyed Canada for just over a year now. She's just under a year and a half old.
Then, when I thought, no more pets, no, no, NO! *sigh* While sitting on my front porch last August, I heard a plaintive mewing from across the street. I went over and looked and looked, then I mewed myself. Down out of a small crab apple tree my latest acquisition scrambled. Swizzle looked so clean and seemed so well socialized, I knew she had to belong to someone. So, I kept her for a few days and looked for her owner. After I fell in love with my little ginger/tuxedo front girl (in a very short time lol) I discovered some jerk had moved out of an apartment around the corner from us, leaving a cat with one month old kittens behind. I was hooked.
DotZilla joined us about a year ago, he's a leopard gecko and he spends most of his time lying around. He's entertaining when he's hunting crickets and shedding, then eating his own skin. He's pretty cool, but he sure can make a noise if you scare him. lol Who knew something so tiny could scream so loud. lol
The fish are really just entertainment for the cats. I used to have a lovely nine inch long weather loach, she looked like an eel, kind of, and she was about seven years old, she would have lived another thirteen possibly, but I stupidly introduced another fish to the tank. She became ill and I had to euthanize her. I miss her a lot, she'd swim through my fingers and eat from my hand. When we move to the new house and I clean and reorganize the aquariums, I'll look for another like her, though I doubt I'll find another FishyFishy.
There, those are my pets in a nutshell. All are happy and well adjusted animals with wonderful and very different personalities. I can't imagine life without them.
