I’m kind of a crazy cat-lady. But in my defense, I got started early and really had no choice in the matter. When I was born, my parents had Blaze, a patient old lady cat who adapted to my baby self quite well, though I would often yank on her tail. After Blaze’s demise, my sister and I got Cotton and Becky when we were about four and two, prime ages for our first pets, no? I named Cotton Cotton because she was white (duh). Rachael named Becky Becky because she was a stubborn toddler who wouldn’t listen to reason and pick a gender-neutral name for her too-young-to-be-sure-of-its-sex kitten. And Becky turned out to be a boy, of course.
We terrorized poor Cotton and Becky, pushing them in strollers, putting them in clothing, toting them around in backpacks and baskets, and generally treating them like dolls. They survived, good natures intact, and were lovely companions throughout our childhood.
Then our youngest sister, Sarah, wanted a cat of her own. I had Cotton, Rachael had Becky, and Sarah felt left out (never mind that we had a dog, too; it wasn’t the same!). So our animal-loving mother took me and Sarah to cat adoption day at Petco. We left with not one, but two kittens, Poppy and Daisy.
After college, in various apartments across Somerville, I truly missed having a cat or two or four around. I tried to keep myself happy with befriending all the neighborhood cats I could, but a frantic pet on the porch was not nearly as satisfying as cohabitation with a feline friend (that sentence sounds slightly wrong, but you know what I mean!).
And then Tyler and I moved in together in a building that allows pets, and almost simultaneously, a colleague of mine announced that her sister-in-law in Maine had a litter of kittens she needed to get rid of. I raised my hand so high, I almost tore my arm out of its socket. And on September 28, 2008, we got Milton and Agnes, and my life was complete again!
Long story short, I love cats.
My friends have been very helpful with caring for mine whenever we’re on vacation, so I was eager to return the favor when Marija and Chris needed a cat-sitter for their new kitty, Nellie.
I visited with Nellie twice today, and boy is she gorgeous:
1. Milton and Agnes are NOT short-haired like I thought they were. Nellie is short-haired and really doesn’t shed. If I touch M and A at all, I have hair on my hand, and they leave it EVERYWHERE. I thought they shed a lot right now because it’s July and they’re hot, but no, they just have longer, sheddier hair.
2. Milt and Aggs are quiet cats. Nellie howled and muttered and squawked and squeaked in a constant monologue of feline expression. M and A only meow when they’re really hungry or see a bug.
3. Milton and Aggie are HUGE, and not just in body (and at 18 and 14 pounds, they are huge in body). Compared to Nellie’s litter box offerings, my cats pee rocks and shit bricks. Nellie pees pebbles and shits the bits of mortar between the bricks.
Nellie and I played with her toys:
But we mostly took glamor shots:
And admired Nellie’s black-on-white manicure:
We also spent some time admiring Marija’s awesome boot collection:
All in all, I’m looking forward to visiting Nellie again tomorrow, and thinking I could have a good time being a pro pet photographer one of these days …