We have two cats.
You’ll never hear my husband saying “we have two cats” because he claims he only puts up with them because of me. Around our house, he only refers to them as “your cats”, as in “one of YOUR cats knocked over the plant.” Translated, means he is definitely not responsible for cleaning it up.
Anyway, these two cats are very fluffy, pretty, and friendly. One is a male named “Blue” and the other is a female named “Butterfly”. They get along quite well, you might say, and have had several litters of fluffy, cute, and friendly kittens, which we sell.
They get along so well, in fact, that when the last kittens were just several weeks old, Blue decided it was time to make more babies.
I think most of us who have had children have experienced the same feelings as Butterfly. As he approached her, she would sit down, run away, or sit on top of the dresser where she knew he couldn’t jump.
It was like a zoo.
He became such a nuisance that we started pushing him away every time he came close to her; eventually we just locked him out of certain rooms. He was used to being the center of attention with us. He’d sit in our laps, roll over for a belly-rub, and help keep the lizard population down.
Suddenly, he’d become the step-child, the neglected one, the one nobody loved. The kittens and their mama were getting all the attention and love.
Meanwhile, he had developed this oily sticky patch on his back and tail that made it impossible to keep mats from developing. The lack of attention just made them worse.
I called my mom.
I asked her if she would PLEASE keep Blue until the kittens were gone, and after enough pleading, she relented. I was pretty careful not to let on about how bad he looked.
Blue doesn’t like to ride in cars. He was so traumatized by the trip that he hid in the closet for two days after he arrived at my mom’s. He finally got hungry enough to venture out.
It wasn’t long before Mom discovered the mats, tried to brush him, he wouldn’t have anything to do with that, and she started calling around trying to find someone who would groom a cat.
The first guy said something like, “Are you crazy?”
The next lady was quick to say, “Oh, no, we don’t do cats.” For good reason, I might add.
She finally found a very nice person who assured her that Blue would be in good hands. It turns out that if the cat doesn’t cooperate, they just sedate him.
Well, to make a long story short, when my mom picked him up, they had added an additional “special handling fee” to the bill. Turns out ole Blue had given them a run for their money.
And back into the closet he went. Hiding from all the torturous humans. Two more days without a thing to eat.
Well, the kittens will be leaving this week and Blue can finally come home. We’ll see just how excited he is to get going on another litter now.
