Home > rayne > There’s no eating in the bird room. -or- Meet Cara, M’s kitty.

There’s no eating in the bird room. -or- Meet Cara, M’s kitty.

October 22nd, 2010

Meet Master's kitty, Cara. Cool background, huh? M says it was an accident. It's our new Liberator throe, and my red and black corset.

Bear with me.  I’m getting somewhere.  And while this isn’t exactly BDSM-related, it is very much Master-and-our-relationship-related.

I’ve had cats on and off since I was nine.  My first was a kitten, and she was a gift from my father.  While I was at summer camp, Dad brought home a black and white furball, and let my sister name her.  Pajamas.  PJ for short.  Sis said her markings made her look like she was wearing jammies.  But there was no doubt in anyone’s mind who PJ belonged to.

When I was somewhere between ten and twelve, PJ got out the house by pushing the screen out of my bedroom window.  A dog chased her all the way to my house, and killed her in my backyard.  The only people home were me and Mom.

I went out to the backyard with my baseball bat, by myself, to chase the dog away.  And my mother? Stayed in the bathroom curling her hair.  When I told her I thought my cat was dying, she said she didn’t know what to tell me.  As I lay in the backyard stroking my dead cat’s fur, she came outside and told me I’d better get my ass in the house and get ready for school.  Then she told me I would never get another pet again.  It was my fault my cat died. 

It wasn’t long before someone noticed how content I was when I was sitting in her den, stroking her cat’s fur, and offered me her “problem child”.  She had seven cats, and all the others picked on the one I favored, and since I’d just lost the only real friend I had (PJ), she figured my house would be the perfect place to send “Fancy Feast”.  Dad vetoed Mom’s no.

When it seemed apparent we were going to have to have Fancy put down, and one of Dad’s subordinates mentioned they needed to find a home for a kitten, Dad brought Beau home, and Fancy suddenly was cured of her nervous condition.  Mom was fit to be tied.

My dad and His new fiancee have a cat and two dogs.  It’s really not surprising.  Dad hated that Mom hates animals.

I’ve owned dozens of cats since I moved out of my parents’ house.  For one reason or another, I always end up having to find them a new home.  Like when my house burned down, and I couldn’t find a place to stay that would let me bring Kaya and her kittens (Yes… I had a cat named Kaya.  She was a tortoise shell calico.  Weird, huh?), so I had to take them to a no-kill shelter.  And the time I found out far too late that my ex hadn’t been paying our bills, and had to find someone to take in Babycakes the One Nutted Wonder (he was born that way).

It wasn’t until a few years ago that I found out there are studied medical and mental health benefits to owning a cat that extend beyond just having a cuddly companion to warm your lap.  The ones of particular interest to me being numbers 10-14 on that list.  Not just for me, though I won’t pretend that I don’t hope owning a cat again will help with my anxiety issues.

M’s not really honest with Himself, or anyone else, about the fact that He, too, has diagnosed mental disorders.  To be honest, I think the therapist He had when I met Him was one of those who believes it’s not conducive to treatment to tell patients their diagnoses, because the only thing the guy told M was that He clearly had paranoia issues.  But it’s becoming more and more apparent that M’s not just a homebody.  He’s a little agoraphobic.  He’s not just shy, or antisocial.  He’s petrified of talking to people He hasn’t known long.  He’s not easily agitated, or overly negative.  He really believes the whole world’s out to get Him.  And His Eeyore-like personality seems to be more of a touch of clinical depression than just who He is.  But until He met me, He’s never been in a position where He felt comfortable accepting and facing His issues, because He’s always been surrounded by people who made it abundantly clear that they viewed those issues as weakness.  And weakness is bad, mmkay?

We’d been talking over the possibility of saving a stray over at APF when M’s child support gets squared away, since, even when He puts me on His health insurance, we’ll still have at least $400/mo more than we have right now, which, judging by how we’ve been doing lately, will be there for us to either play with or save.  We’ll probably do a little of both.  Then this awesome cat fell in our lap.

Cara’s owner isn’t doing well.  The doctors don’t expect her to live more than a couple more days.  And M’s decided to honor her wishes, and keep the cat.  The extra food/litter bill is only enough to make us have to skip one eating out day a pay period till next year, when another kid comes off child support, and the back support issue will be fixed.  The only thing I’m worried about is the landlord, but unless our heater acts up again this year, we might be able to put off telling him till the first of the year.  And by then, we’ll have the money for the deposit.  But we’ve already made the decision that if he decides to be a dink, and tell us to get rid of her (Our lease says we can have a cat if we pay a deposit, but one of our old neighbors had a cat that destroyed the carpet, so he’s been talking about telling everyone no pets.), we’re moving.  Funny how the danger and chaos around us hasn’t been able to make us say, “We’re moving.  Right now.”, but the landlord telling us we can’t keep this cat will be “the straw that broke the camel’s back”.

Cara is incredibly sweet.  She’s litter trained.  She’s not declawed (I’m against it anyway.), but she is spayed.  She’s been healthy for all of her three years.  Our friend just recently took her to the vet, so she’s had all her shots, and isn’t due for another year.  She’s been checked for worms, and treated for fleas.  And she tested negative for FIV and leukemia.  So I don’t foresee any major vet costs aside from shots and well-kitty check-ups since we’re not letting her go outside.  And I’ve already found a place close by that will do them cheaply, and a cab company who will take us there if we still don’t have a car in a year.

She doesn’t scratch or bite unless she’s playing, and even then, she tries really hard not to hurt whoever she’s playing with.  She loves to be petted, and will lay still (most of the time) for as long as you want to pet her, purring away as if she’s the happiest she’s ever been.  But more than being petted, she likes to be cuddled.  She’s got this adorably musical purry meow that she lets loose any time she rubs up against you.  When we wake up, she’s in our face looking for love.  When we go to sleep, she cuddles us until we lay down.  She loves string and koosh balls.  She listens (most of the time) and loves and (mostly) just looks at the birds and gerbils.

And we both fawn all over her like she’s a newborn.

Yeah, we’ve had to figure out how to cover the birds at night so she can’t stick her nose under the blanket and freak Zedd out (His favorite perch is too high for her to reach, so she’s resigned herself to scaring him instead.).  We have to watch her when they’re flying around, and put her in the bathroom when we’re trying to get them in their cages.  And she may never be able to resist the urge to at least scare the crap out of them, if not attempt to eat them.  But so long as we’re hyper-vigilant when we’re home, and make sure the birds are at least in their cages when we’re not, they should all be fine living together.  We’ve both decided the extra effort will be worth it.

I really think Cara is going to be good for M.  The day we brought her home, she kissed His hands every time He petted her.  Last night, I wept at the sheer joy I heard coming from the living room while I cooked dinner.  My big strapping daddy was giggling like a boy in the schoolyard while He teased Cara with a piece of string.  He was amazed at the fervor with which she played, and how intent she was on “killing” her prey.  And we both laughed out loud every time she grabbed on with her teeth and pulled with all her might.  Her favorite game appears to be tug-of-war.

I should have caught on much earlier.  This man has never really been allowed to be Himself before.  Was never really allowed to be a child.  Was taught there’s such a thing as “too much fun”, and one should never have it.

I’ve been with Him for eight years, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen Him as genuinely relaxed and openly happy as He is while He plays with Cara.  His breaks throughout the day consist of hunting Cara down, and petting her until He has to go back to work.

And she seems to have taken to Him just as quickly, even though I’m the one who feeds her, and cleans her box.  She’s commandeered His foot of the bed.  She cuddles His shoes.  She curls up next to Him in bed for a few minutes when He’s laying down.  And she acts the most butthurt when she gets in trouble with Him.

Yeah… I think Cara’s really going to be good for Him.  She came a few months earlier than we’d planned on finding a cat, but I don’t think we could have asked for a better feline friend.

I rescued a human today.  Her eyes met mine as she walked down the corridor peering apprehensively into the kennels.  I felt her need instantly and knew I had to help her.  I wagged my tail, not too exuberantly, so she wouldn’t be afraid.  As she stopped at my kennel I blocked her view from a little accident I had in the back of my cage.  I didn’t want her to know that I hadn’t been walked today. Sometimes the shelter keepers get too busy and I didn’t want her to think poorly of them.  As she read my kennel card I hoped that she wouldn’t feel sad about my past.  I only have the future to look forward to and want to make a difference in someone’s life.  She got down on her knees and made little kissy sounds at me.  I shoved my shoulder and side of my head up against the bars to comfort her.  Gentle fingertips caressed my neck; she was desperate for companionship.  A tear fell down her cheek and I raised my paw to assure her that all would be well.  Soon my kennel door opened and her smile was so bright that I instantly jumped into her arms.  I would promise to keep her safe.  I would promise to always be by her side.  I would promise to do everything I could to see that radiant smile and sparkle in her eyes.  I was so fortunate that she came down my corridor.  So many more are out there who haven’t walked the corridors.  So many more to be saved.  At least I could save one.  I rescued a human today.

~Janine Allen

Categories: rayne Tags:
  1. October 23rd, 2010 at 04:41 | #1

    Rayne,

    Cats are so cool that way. I had to leave my own cat behind when I made the move (six month quarentine). It’s amazing how fast we miss them when they’re gone.

    Dave

  2. Dinora3228
    October 23rd, 2010 at 21:28 | #2

    Cara sounds perfect. I have two furbabies and they give me great joy. The girl usually joins us on the bed at night – she’s often following us around before hand telling us it’s bedtime. Soo cute.

    Dinora3228

  3. October 24th, 2010 at 07:35 | #3

    We just had to giveaway our furbaby who we had for 14 years. We miss her so much. I believe the medical study to be true. When I come home she was always waiting and met me at the door.

  4. October 24th, 2010 at 13:55 | #4

    @dweaver999 Aww! I’m sorry you had to leave your baby behind. :/

    @Dinora3228 Cara sleeps by M’s feet occasionally, but most of the time, if we’re in bed, she sleeps on my chair.

    @Pleasure My Spot Oh I bet you miss her lots. That stinks. :/

  5. Selective Sensualist
    October 30th, 2010 at 16:10 | #5

    I can’t believe I missed this post.

    This is so beautiful. Just beautiful. I got tears in my eyes reading this.

    I’m so sorry about your friend, Cara’s first mommy. But I hope you all remain very happy together as a new little family. I feel confident that you will. 🙂

    And Cara is SO amazingly gorgeous!

  6. October 30th, 2010 at 16:33 | #6

    @Selective Sensualist Since I wrote this, my birds and gerbils have started acting normal again. The birds are singing and playing normally, and the gerbils are back to their usual active selves.

    And M is even more in love with her than He was before. He’s really enjoying watching her personality become more and more apparent as she gets more comfortable.

    I think this is going to work out better than I even imagined. She is definitely the cat we were meant to have.

  7. Selective Sensualist
    October 30th, 2010 at 19:50 | #7

    @rayne
    I know what you mean about “the cat we were meant to have.” We’ve had our kitty for 14.5 years and she is absolutely perfect for us.

    She has been absolutely perfect in temperament, personality, and just how she interacts with us from day one. She is irreplaceable to us. We’ll never find another cat with her personality and I can’t bear the thought of ever losing her.

    Ironically, at the time we adopted her if had been completely up to me, I would not have chosen her. I wanted her orange/white brother because I’d had three orange males growing up (though we did not have them at the same time). Also, I was never really fond of gray tabbies until we got her. The reason we got her was because, in agreeing to get a kitten, my husband specified that:

    1) The kitten had to be female (I wanted a male).
    2) She had to be either gray or black (he was thinking solid gray, but there was a shortage of kittens in town at that time of year — February — and that was the only litter I could find . . . a litter of one female torti, one solid orange male, one orange male with white markings, and our darling little striped gray tabby). I begged my husband for her brother, but he stuck to his rules.
    3) She also had to be fiesty.

    Of course, she fit #1, being female, but she DEFINITELY fit specification #3 well when she was young! But she was also always so affectionate and such a love bug. She’s a lovey baby. <3

    Sorry to write a novel in your comment section, but she really inspires it out of me! Glad you guys have found your own furry feline love. 🙂

  8. October 30th, 2010 at 20:07 | #8

    @Selective Sensualist No, it’s totally okay. I love long comments! And I’m super excited to have found someone I’m not gonna bore to death with my cat stories! Lol.

    When we went to the pet store the other day (which gave us the idea to stop into APF after M’s child support is fixed), they had cats for adoption. M was looking at this orange and white male, but he hissed at us. We checked out this tortoise shell calico that looked a lot like the cat I mentioned in this post. She was way too skittish. They tried to pawn off a ten year old with leukemia on us, but I’m looking at losing one of my birds, if not both, in the not too distant future, and I didn’t think I could handle yet another pet death. Especially a cat. So we decided to wait.

    Obviously, that was the right decision, because, and this is gonna sound ridiculous, but… Today when we went shopping, I missed her. Lol.

Comments are closed.
%d bloggers like this: