So, I may have mentioned I have a pair of cats - one called Molly, the other Rosie. It struck me I've had this blog for almost a year now and never really gone beyond a mention of their existence in my life. I decided to remedy that, because who doesn't love kitty cat posts?
Me and my brother decided around four years ago now that we wanted to get a cat. We had the bunny rabbits, and they were absolutely beautiful, but the age at which they could be housetrained had been and passed long before that, and we wanted an inside companion, one who would sit next to us on the couch and watch Better Homes & Gardens with us on a Friday night, or turn her nose up at us because she just felt like it. We knew we wanted a girl cat - our family has always been determined to have female pets (with the exception of our Doberman dog Sabre, who passed away when I was 5), I think it's something to do with the smell/behaviour of males in general. I dunno.
Anyway, we knew mum wouldn't be hard to convince; she missed having a cat after our first one, Holly, died at 16.5 years old. Lots of life, that old girl, and she was every bit a snobbish, uptight princess (unless she was hoeing into a still-twitching half-eaten pigeon she had caught and dragged from the tree in our front yard). The issue was convincing dad - he doesn't like to spend money, and having a cat was a huge expense in terms of food, toys, bedding, collars, equipment - it wasn't really feasible to desire what we did, but we were all prepared to go in guns blazing when a notice attracted my eye on the internet. I had been doing a search on where to get young cats (we didn't want the 8 week old kittens all the pet stores sold, we wanted to adopt). The Cat Haven - I can't remember where it is exactly, but I know we drove a hell of a lot to get there - was offering a sale, buy one cat get one free for $150, neutering included in the cost if necessary. A bargain - it took ten minutes for us (with mum on our side) to convince him not only to get a cat, but two, one for me and one for Jake.
We went out on a Saturday, all of us super excited - Dad decided to stay home and get the bathroom down back ready for the little kitties to stay in, so it was just us and mum driving out to the Cat Haven. Going there was hard; I was a little stressed out because no one was listening to me when I said not to enter the side of the enclosure labelled 'adult cats', as that wasn't what we were after. I had to usher them into the younger cat section before my little brother (only 9) got attached to them all. There weren't a lot in the young cat section around the age we wanted, 6 months or so, and those that fit the bill mum wanted (age, and ginger coloured) were marked as having been sold. We really had no choice but to enter the little hutch at the end, filled with mewling, sweet little kittens.
There were a couple that were really outgoing; super happy to see us, and usually they'd be the ones you pick, right? Well, they were all predominantly white cats, no ginger, so mum wanted a little dark cat that was curled up on top of a box with another kitten. I didn't even realise she was a separate cat, I thought she was part of the other one! I picked her up and held her; she was a little scrawny, but she had the sweetest little face and when I passed her over to Jake he just fell in love with the flailing awkward thing. I was pretty sure I was going to go with the outgoing white cat when my mum again pointed out an invisible kitten, hiding in the corner of the doorway; one inch right when I entered the enclosure I would've squished her. She was absolutely tiny, and her face was pretty weird, like she'd run into a glass door and her features remained kinda squished. She was all white, save for a couple of smatterings of caramel colour that the volunteer called a 'tortoise shell' pattern. She was pretty unremarkable, until I lifted her up and got a better look at her. Tiny pink nose with a cute little black smudge on it, legs splayed out and holding onto me desperately - and the biggest, bluest eyes I'd ever seen. I'd never seen a blue-eyed cat beyond the kind of stuff you see in those cat calendars of the purebred Ragdoll or Siamese cats, but here was a little mutt of a cat with the most perfect eyes in the world - seriously, they were Gollum-pale blue, almost transparent, like ice. I remember going 'mum, she has blue eyes, she has blue eyes!' And she looked so scared, and I fell in love. I've always had a fascination with animals that are ugly in a cute way, or just look awkward - like pugs, I love them, but their faces are pretty weird.
So, long story short, the cats ingratiated themselves into our lives. Both of them were incredibly shy, and I think the staff tried to dissuade us from taking two antisocial kittens home for fear we'd return them. But no. You see, my experience with Holly as a child had led me to believe all cats were finicky and antisocial, and I desperately wanted that haughty feline presence in my life again; it seemed like she knew everything, had all the knowledge in the world, and she would always come and go and act all mysterious. I was eager to put in all the effort to receive the occasional allowance of bodily contact.
They were both three months old; the dark one was named Marmalade, the white one Poppy. Everyone was super sad to see Poppy go; her blue eyes had enchanted them as much as they did me, and she really was ridiculously tiny for her age. We were encouraged to rename them; I had already decided on Molly before we got home with the cat-carrier. I had two names picked out - Molly if she was sweet and cute and little, or Nala if she was feisty or confident or looked like a little big cat. Molly was none of the latter; and it was a nice way to pay homage to our beautiful Holly who had passed away from skin cancer some years before. Jake wanted to rename Marmalade Penny-Muffin. He was originally going to go with Muffin, but I did my best to dissuade him from the awful choice of name by suggesting Penny from the Big Bang Theory (one of his favourite shows); of course, the idiot put them together and made it even worse, until mum just bluntly told him there was no way her name would be Penny-Muffin, because it was torture. I suggested Nala, Boots, Twinkles, Princess, before I desperately cast around my memory for a suitable name. I was watching Home and Away at the time, and there was some stupid girl called Rosie (hated her, but always liked the name) and I suggested that. It's funny, because on first sight she doesn't look like a Rosie; but she owns the name better than she did Marmalade. She is Rosie.
Rosie has established herself as the resident guts and cuddle-monster of the family. She steals the food, eats anything you give her and spends her free time sleeping or invading your personal space to curl up on your lap like a baby, belly up so she can be stroked. Molly is the resident schizo; she jumps at every noise, she acts like a dog a lot of the time, and she has a fetish for crawling under people's blankets as well as anything cylindrical she shouldn't have, like straws from your juicebox or pens from your homework assignment. Rosie is a haughty little bitch, but we love her to absolute pieces, and we are seriously considering getting one of those strap-on baby carriers to cart her around and make her life complete. Molly turns her nose up at most food as a lot of cats do, and she has an unhealthy obsession with her mummy (me) and has separation anxiety whenever I go out, walking aimlessly around the house and meowing until I get home. They're both special little princesses, and we love them.
Molly has conjunctivitis, which isn't great, because she doesn't react well when you force her to do something. I give her four doses of antibiotic eye drops a day, and I have to wrap her in a towel and pull her head back to prevent her from escaping. She, surprisingly, isn't kicking up too much of a fuss about it; a half-hour freakout and avoidance session before she returns to following me around the house and rubbing herself against me every time I move. I'm very proud of her, because she is an anxious cat by nature and she's allowing me to help her feel better. And it's obvious she feels better; she could barely open her eyes the other day and now, after two days, she's wide awake and alert. We hope this stuff will work; if not, we'll be going to the vet and determining what's going on once and for all. We'll likely be going for the acne she has on her chin, and the scab she gave herself from rubbing at her eye to vigorously, anyway.
Hopefully I can update the status on Molly soon. Thanks for reading!
There were a couple that were really outgoing; super happy to see us, and usually they'd be the ones you pick, right? Well, they were all predominantly white cats, no ginger, so mum wanted a little dark cat that was curled up on top of a box with another kitten. I didn't even realise she was a separate cat, I thought she was part of the other one! I picked her up and held her; she was a little scrawny, but she had the sweetest little face and when I passed her over to Jake he just fell in love with the flailing awkward thing. I was pretty sure I was going to go with the outgoing white cat when my mum again pointed out an invisible kitten, hiding in the corner of the doorway; one inch right when I entered the enclosure I would've squished her. She was absolutely tiny, and her face was pretty weird, like she'd run into a glass door and her features remained kinda squished. She was all white, save for a couple of smatterings of caramel colour that the volunteer called a 'tortoise shell' pattern. She was pretty unremarkable, until I lifted her up and got a better look at her. Tiny pink nose with a cute little black smudge on it, legs splayed out and holding onto me desperately - and the biggest, bluest eyes I'd ever seen. I'd never seen a blue-eyed cat beyond the kind of stuff you see in those cat calendars of the purebred Ragdoll or Siamese cats, but here was a little mutt of a cat with the most perfect eyes in the world - seriously, they were Gollum-pale blue, almost transparent, like ice. I remember going 'mum, she has blue eyes, she has blue eyes!' And she looked so scared, and I fell in love. I've always had a fascination with animals that are ugly in a cute way, or just look awkward - like pugs, I love them, but their faces are pretty weird.
So, long story short, the cats ingratiated themselves into our lives. Both of them were incredibly shy, and I think the staff tried to dissuade us from taking two antisocial kittens home for fear we'd return them. But no. You see, my experience with Holly as a child had led me to believe all cats were finicky and antisocial, and I desperately wanted that haughty feline presence in my life again; it seemed like she knew everything, had all the knowledge in the world, and she would always come and go and act all mysterious. I was eager to put in all the effort to receive the occasional allowance of bodily contact.
They were both three months old; the dark one was named Marmalade, the white one Poppy. Everyone was super sad to see Poppy go; her blue eyes had enchanted them as much as they did me, and she really was ridiculously tiny for her age. We were encouraged to rename them; I had already decided on Molly before we got home with the cat-carrier. I had two names picked out - Molly if she was sweet and cute and little, or Nala if she was feisty or confident or looked like a little big cat. Molly was none of the latter; and it was a nice way to pay homage to our beautiful Holly who had passed away from skin cancer some years before. Jake wanted to rename Marmalade Penny-Muffin. He was originally going to go with Muffin, but I did my best to dissuade him from the awful choice of name by suggesting Penny from the Big Bang Theory (one of his favourite shows); of course, the idiot put them together and made it even worse, until mum just bluntly told him there was no way her name would be Penny-Muffin, because it was torture. I suggested Nala, Boots, Twinkles, Princess, before I desperately cast around my memory for a suitable name. I was watching Home and Away at the time, and there was some stupid girl called Rosie (hated her, but always liked the name) and I suggested that. It's funny, because on first sight she doesn't look like a Rosie; but she owns the name better than she did Marmalade. She is Rosie.
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| Our pretty little Rose, the cuddle-muffin. Ignore my leg, she decided to fall asleep on me. |
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| She's so dark, you can't see her! We trip over her all the time. |
Rosie has established herself as the resident guts and cuddle-monster of the family. She steals the food, eats anything you give her and spends her free time sleeping or invading your personal space to curl up on your lap like a baby, belly up so she can be stroked. Molly is the resident schizo; she jumps at every noise, she acts like a dog a lot of the time, and she has a fetish for crawling under people's blankets as well as anything cylindrical she shouldn't have, like straws from your juicebox or pens from your homework assignment. Rosie is a haughty little bitch, but we love her to absolute pieces, and we are seriously considering getting one of those strap-on baby carriers to cart her around and make her life complete. Molly turns her nose up at most food as a lot of cats do, and she has an unhealthy obsession with her mummy (me) and has separation anxiety whenever I go out, walking aimlessly around the house and meowing until I get home. They're both special little princesses, and we love them.
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| My Molly; she darkened drastically from white to dark brown as she got older. |
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| Cheeky Molly. |
Molly has conjunctivitis, which isn't great, because she doesn't react well when you force her to do something. I give her four doses of antibiotic eye drops a day, and I have to wrap her in a towel and pull her head back to prevent her from escaping. She, surprisingly, isn't kicking up too much of a fuss about it; a half-hour freakout and avoidance session before she returns to following me around the house and rubbing herself against me every time I move. I'm very proud of her, because she is an anxious cat by nature and she's allowing me to help her feel better. And it's obvious she feels better; she could barely open her eyes the other day and now, after two days, she's wide awake and alert. We hope this stuff will work; if not, we'll be going to the vet and determining what's going on once and for all. We'll likely be going for the acne she has on her chin, and the scab she gave herself from rubbing at her eye to vigorously, anyway.
Hopefully I can update the status on Molly soon. Thanks for reading!
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