My old, loving, sweet-tempered, devoted male cat passed away two years ago at the age of 19. We had been together since he was 6 weeks old, and he slept with me every night.
His passing left a big hole in my life.
True, we still had the other cat, a bad-tempered foul-mouthed cat who refuses to cuddle. She also belongs to my husband. And a few months after my cat’s death, we added my daughter’s cat, who is mild-mannered, sweet, but nonetheless my daughter’s cat.
I wanted a cat of my own. After all, I am the cat person in the house. So I talked to my husband, and he said no, which meant I could get a cat.
I wanted a cat that would be devoted to me. And adoption experts told me my best shot at that would be a male kitten. So I started looking.
About six weeks ago I found him. He’s not anything like I expected he would look. He is an orange mackerel tabby with a pink nose and paw pads.
He is extremely high energy, and loves to play. He learned very quickly that the younger cat loves to play with him, and the older cat wants nothing to do with him.
He discovered the world of cat toys that crinkle, jingle and smell nice. He discovered that if he brings back a toy thrown for him to chase, it will be thrown again.
He discovered gravity, after walking on the outside of the railings on the balcony, and losing his balance. Luckily the tree broke his fall and he was not injured.
He discovered that jumping onto a human’s back and clinging with claws is generally not well received.
He discovered that he can hang by his front paws on a window to get a better look at the outside.
He discovered that the older cats eat twice a day and he joins them for a few bites to be social (he has his own feeding station with kitten food).
He discovered that when I am sitting, he can take a kitten nap on me.
He discovered that sitting in a box next to my computer means he can be by me if he can’t be on me.
And he discovered that if he greets me as soon as I walk in the door, he will get an extra cuddle.