Well, it's high time I did the introductory post.
My name is Shar, and I'm a cat lover (chorus: "Hi, Shar")
My first cat--my love and my soul kitty--Midnight, died at home with me five weeks ago, today. She's my avatar, in my reading chair.
In coping with her death, I picked a no-kill shelter in my area that had an all-hands volunteer call, and placed myself happily in the cattery. I quickly became "that" volunteer, updating the medical board with every sneeze, "soft serve" poop, missed meal and hint of medical issues. In short, I'm very, very happy to be with them, and if I don't know what I'm going to do with myself on a given day, or the call goes out, I'm there.
Through my mother's house, I've psuedo-adopted a whole mess of ferals. I'll expound on that whole Days-of-Our-Lives worthy tale in the feral section, likely coupled with a plea to help trap a humane-trap-shy cat (the matriarch, who teaches kittens how to avoid the trap...hence our growing colony).
In short, I coped with Midnight's death by burying myself in feline fur. As was bound to happen, one eventually sunk claws into my heart. I still think he came along too soon, but oh well. Thems the breaks. I wasn't wanting a cat when Midnight showed up, either... And oh boy, do I have stories about her...
In any event, enter Hank (originally listed as Faith/Hannah, but with boy parts, and a chip registered as "Milo" after I had my vet check him out. Whoops, you're Hank now, buddy). I won't go into details, since this book is long enough as it is... suffice to say, where Midnight was an only kitty, I have a feeling that Hank will be needing a buddy sometime soon. I think he may be communing with Midnight's spirit, though, since he's starting to pick up some of her habits (albeit, with a twist). For instance, he's learning to be a water-lover like she was, but where her fun came from sinks and the bathtub, he prefers his from the toilet. Men...
My name is Shar, and I'm a cat lover (chorus: "Hi, Shar")
My first cat--my love and my soul kitty--Midnight, died at home with me five weeks ago, today. She's my avatar, in my reading chair.
In coping with her death, I picked a no-kill shelter in my area that had an all-hands volunteer call, and placed myself happily in the cattery. I quickly became "that" volunteer, updating the medical board with every sneeze, "soft serve" poop, missed meal and hint of medical issues. In short, I'm very, very happy to be with them, and if I don't know what I'm going to do with myself on a given day, or the call goes out, I'm there.
Through my mother's house, I've psuedo-adopted a whole mess of ferals. I'll expound on that whole Days-of-Our-Lives worthy tale in the feral section, likely coupled with a plea to help trap a humane-trap-shy cat (the matriarch, who teaches kittens how to avoid the trap...hence our growing colony).
In short, I coped with Midnight's death by burying myself in feline fur. As was bound to happen, one eventually sunk claws into my heart. I still think he came along too soon, but oh well. Thems the breaks. I wasn't wanting a cat when Midnight showed up, either... And oh boy, do I have stories about her...
In any event, enter Hank (originally listed as Faith/Hannah, but with boy parts, and a chip registered as "Milo" after I had my vet check him out. Whoops, you're Hank now, buddy). I won't go into details, since this book is long enough as it is... suffice to say, where Midnight was an only kitty, I have a feeling that Hank will be needing a buddy sometime soon. I think he may be communing with Midnight's spirit, though, since he's starting to pick up some of her habits (albeit, with a twist). For instance, he's learning to be a water-lover like she was, but where her fun came from sinks and the bathtub, he prefers his from the toilet. Men...
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