Me and you and a dog named boo, Travellin’ and livin’ off the land.

For about as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved cats.  As a child I always wanted one for a pet, but my mother hates pets.  She eventually gave in to my dad and her children and we got a dog.  We had a few dogs growing up, and I loved them all, but I never had the same affinity for them as I have for cats.

My first cat I ever had I only had for about a week.  My dad and I found this little stray in our yard and took care of him for about a week before my mom put her foot down and made us get rid of him.  We gave him to an aunt of mine who lives on a farm, where he could live a bit more free.  I definitely was sad, but never fully bonded with the little kitty.  But I would eventually have my own for real.

My first real cat is named Dame Judi Dench (after the phenomenal actress,) or Judi for short.  My ex and I got her when she was about 6 months old from this wonderful man who ran a no-kill shelter from a thrift shop he owns.  Judi came into my life and has been my first child.  To me my cats are my children.

My second kitty came by way of adoption.  She’s been the cat of many, but I loved her so much.  Piper was the cat of my ex’s sister’s ex.  She was a big fat cat who longed for attention like no one else.  You could put your hand out and she would come and pet herself on you.  Literally she’d rub against an outstretched hand for a long time.  She would sleep next to me and I loved to feel her weight against me as I woke up.  Sadly she passed back in January.  I didn’t get to see her much in the last year of her life, and that is something I will always regret.

My third cat was the cat of my ex’s sister.  I’ve never gotten a pet from a store, as there are so many that need love already.  Pip is a scrappy little kitten, who’s had several liters of her own.  Her age is unknown exactly, but she’s an old momma kitty who’s not much bigger than a kitten.  Her tail is gone, left with this tiny nub on her butt.  She’ll still come up and rest her front paws on my leg as I sit.  I fear she’s got maybe a year or two left, and I still don’t see her enough.

My forth and final cat to date was a tiny tiny stray my ex and I stole from a home that clearly never cared for her.  Molly was her name, after the character from Neuromancer  She was malnourished, about half the size a cat should be.  When she walked her shoulder blades were visible.  She was angular and bony, and so tiny.  She would sleep on me or on my ex while we slept, both on my chest, and on a pillow over my head, and you wouldn’t even know she’s there.  She was very close in color to Piper, so we joked that my big fat cat had stolen half of Molly.  She died in January of last year.  That was a very hard time for me, and not long after my ex and I split.

It’s been a little over a year, and I get to see them so very little now.  My current living situation does not allow me to take care of any of them, but I at least know they are in a safe place.  My ex and I are still very good friends, and I know she would make sure they eat before she does.  It’s still very hard being without my children for so long though.

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