A friend and her cat.
A friend of mine grew up in one of those homes where animals were considered "unsanitary" and "destructive."
They also put blinds on all the windows (including the little window in the door) because "people might look in!" believed children should be seen and not heard, locked everything at all times, kept a meal schedule ("fish on Fridays"), made prudent shopping decisions, and paid all their bills weeks early ("it could get lost in the mail"). Naturally my friend grew up uncomfortable around pets of all stripes.
Then she fell in love with a cat.
The cat came with the house she bought (prudent, expensive, well-researched). Kitty was very, very old, abandoned by the previous owners, and apparently never let in the house before.
Worried that the kitty (who lived outside) might be cold, my friend bought her a little cat apartment.
Kitty gazed at it in awe, looked up at my friend in surprise and gratitude, "Is that for ME?" and went in. And back out to gaze lovingly at my friend, then looked in shock at the little house (like she thought it might disappear), then went back in, and back out, so happy, so grateful. My friend became the center of that cat's world.
My friend bought her a toy, and received the same reaction, like a child who'd never been given a Christmas present. She loved that toy, and loved my friend more.
Eventually my friend let her in the house. She was not into cats roaming the house, but it was just too pitiable that this elderly cat was outside (even with a new cat apartment).
The intent was to keep kitty in one room, but once in the house, the elderly kitty lady couldn't resist exploring, went from room to room and back around again. She'd never been in a house so BIG. She wanted it all. And she wanted to be with her new heroine. My friend relented.
The elderly kitty lady was slightly incontinent, and had perpetual diarrhea. She determinedly followed my friend from room to room and would sit under my friend's chair at mealtimes, beaming with joy at my friend's company, emitting horrible gas.
My friend would wave the smell away and joke about it, complain about the messes, but she had never had a pet before, and had never been the focus of such unwavering devotion. She named the elderly kitty lady Holly, and loved her, smells, messes and all.
Holly, the elderly kitty lady, lived to a ripe old age and passed away two years later. Much loved, and much missed.
My friend is my mom's roommate. And mom moved in with five cats.
Also posted at http://icarus.dreamwidth.org, comment wherever you please.
They also put blinds on all the windows (including the little window in the door) because "people might look in!" believed children should be seen and not heard, locked everything at all times, kept a meal schedule ("fish on Fridays"), made prudent shopping decisions, and paid all their bills weeks early ("it could get lost in the mail"). Naturally my friend grew up uncomfortable around pets of all stripes.
Then she fell in love with a cat.
The cat came with the house she bought (prudent, expensive, well-researched). Kitty was very, very old, abandoned by the previous owners, and apparently never let in the house before.
Worried that the kitty (who lived outside) might be cold, my friend bought her a little cat apartment.
Kitty gazed at it in awe, looked up at my friend in surprise and gratitude, "Is that for ME?" and went in. And back out to gaze lovingly at my friend, then looked in shock at the little house (like she thought it might disappear), then went back in, and back out, so happy, so grateful. My friend became the center of that cat's world.
My friend bought her a toy, and received the same reaction, like a child who'd never been given a Christmas present. She loved that toy, and loved my friend more.
Eventually my friend let her in the house. She was not into cats roaming the house, but it was just too pitiable that this elderly cat was outside (even with a new cat apartment).
The intent was to keep kitty in one room, but once in the house, the elderly kitty lady couldn't resist exploring, went from room to room and back around again. She'd never been in a house so BIG. She wanted it all. And she wanted to be with her new heroine. My friend relented.
The elderly kitty lady was slightly incontinent, and had perpetual diarrhea. She determinedly followed my friend from room to room and would sit under my friend's chair at mealtimes, beaming with joy at my friend's company, emitting horrible gas.
My friend would wave the smell away and joke about it, complain about the messes, but she had never had a pet before, and had never been the focus of such unwavering devotion. She named the elderly kitty lady Holly, and loved her, smells, messes and all.
Holly, the elderly kitty lady, lived to a ripe old age and passed away two years later. Much loved, and much missed.
My friend is my mom's roommate. And mom moved in with five cats.
Also posted at http://icarus.dreamwidth.org, comment wherever you please.