I thought today I would take the time to write about my cat. I have been sitting in my bed "Indian" style, with my lap top pulled towards me wrapped in my quilt...Yet here he sits right on my lap curled up. He is using my right arm as a pillow and has his paw right on my hand as I write.
He has always done similar things like this since he was a baby. I cannot remember if I have wrote about him before in my first few blogs or not, but I feel chatty this evening, so I will tell the story of how our fates came together.
My senior year of high school my ex moved out of his home, so he decided to adopt a cat. Her name is Jinx, and she is mixed between a calico and a pure-bred siamese. I walked into our local aquatics store, and they seemed to always be doing someone a favor by trying to find homes for their litters of puppies, kittens or pets they needed to rehome. That day I walked in there just happened to be four kittens in a cage, all meowing and wanting attention. As soon as the door opened all four were right on me dying for someone to pay attention to them.
There had been five kittens, but one had already been adopted. Out of the four kittens two appeared to be calico and the other two were siamese looking. They were tiny, just wheened at 5 weeks old. Their mother had stopped nursing them, so they had been bottle fed from Day 3 of their lives, and thrived on human contact.
I kept Jinx with me for about two months, probably a little less than that. When Jeremy took her to live with him my mother finally allowed me to adopt a cat of my own. I had visited Jeremy's aunt and uncle's cow farm, had a kitten picked out for when she was wheened. When we went back to Jeremy's house he had been renting with some friends, they had rescued two little male tiger stripes from under the house. Both scared and untamed.
I spent a few days sitting in the back room they were kept in for hours, waiting for them to come out from behind their hiding spot behind the washing machine. I tried food, toys, anything for them to come to me. One was a lot smaller than the other, and the larger one had white paws and a white mark on his face, which looked like a scar. The smaller one was strictly a brown tiger striped cat. I had come to the conclusion they were siblings and that their mother was the black cat lingering around the house for months.
When the two were fed the older one would growl and protect his own. I could tell outside they hadn't had a whole lot to eat. Surprisingly they both were very clean.
After a few days, they eventually started coming to me. I knew I wanted one, would have loved to adopt them both so they would stay together, but I was only allowed one. I knew which one I wanted when he came up to me and fell asleep in my lap. He was still weary around me, but comfortable enough he fell asleep on my left leg. I chose the larger, dominating, white pawed kitten. The younger one became my friend Jessi's, and he was named Lil Jon. Sadly, two years later Lil Jon passed away from kidney failure.
When I brought Murphy home we all had assumed both cats had been girls. I had named him Belle. I always have wanted a female cat named Belle after "Beauty and the Beast." For two weeks I assumed he was a she. When I placed him in my room for the first time I had him on my bed. At the time my box springs and mattras was on the floor, and my mattras just happened to not align up with the box springs then, and it was pushed against the wall. This was his little spot he made his domain for a few days.
Every time I walked into my room the first few days he would hiss and go to his little area. I eventually placed a towel there, and that was where he would sleep. I would lie in bed at night and pet him. Every day he grew use to me. I still remember him crawling up and down my leg, digging his little nails into the thigh of my jeans to play with string.
He remained in my room for a week, but when I would bathe I would take him into the bathroom with me and he would sleep on a towel or play. It is a small bathroom so he was comfortable. The running water didn't scare him. When I was finished I would pick him up and take him back to my room.
Eventually I opened my room up to him to walk around the upstairs hallway and the bathroom. He slowly grew use to that. It was about a week after I adopted him that he was comfortable to go downstairs to explore, but only when I was around did I allow him to do that. We had a one year old Bloodhound at the time and we had just adopted a Basset Hound puppy named Scooby just days before or after we adopted Murphy. Scooby was not much bigger than he was. Murphy was about 8 weeks old when I brought him home and Scooby was 6 weeks old. Eventually those two were wrestling buddies. I cannot tell you how many times Scooby sat on his head or how many times Murphy would go for a ride on top of Scooby's head. Scooby eventually grew to be a 60 pound dog, and Murphy is a very large cat weighing in about 18 pounds now, and to this day they both tolerate each other. Being 6 years old Scooby moves a little slower, and Murphy still can act much like a kitten when he wants to, but they no longer play like they did when they were little.
When Murphy was growing up, I would sit in my room in an old arm chair my dad had while I was growing up and write on a laptop all my stories and ideas I had flowing through me. Murphy was often right there with me, sitting on the arm of the chair, or on my bed snoozing right beside me. Eventually he started cuddling up on my lap like he was (he just left to go eat).
When I am at home he follows me everywhere. It isn't very often I sit in my room and wonder where he disappeared to. Sometimes at night I lie down to sleep and he isn't beside me or at the foot of my bed. It bothers me sometimes when I lie down and he doesn't want to be in bed with me, but when I wake up the next morning he is most likely right beside me sleeping.
When I spend my days in Chillicothe visiting Jay I miss him. By the time I am driving away my mind always thinks of him and how much I miss him. Due to the weather here recently I have been spending my nights at Nichole and Bree's rental house snoozing on their couch. When I come home after school he's happy to see me. I always know when he misses me at night because he will either meow at me constantly, or snuggle up close when I am in my bed working on school work. Sometimes he meows at me when he is ready to go to bed. If I am up sewing late, he's right in my face. Eventually he gets the message across to me he is ready to go to bed.
Some people say cats do not have personality, and if they do it is a bitchy, hissy personality. Murphy has more personality than I ever thought a cat ever possessed in them. He knows what he wants and when he wants it, and it doesn't revolve around his stomach most of the time either. Do not get me wrong, he loves his food. At 18 pounds and overweight anyone could tell. I never thought I would have a cat this devoted to me, but he is. He thrives on my attention, and when I am not at home he eventually goes and causes chaos for my younger siblings, trying to sit on their laps as they attempt to do their hair (oh yes he does this to me too, unless I have the blow dryer). He sheds like no other too! My bed is constantly covered in dark cat hair. You can always tell where he sleeps at.
I have no idea what I would do without him. I refuse to move and leave him behind when I graduate, find my own place and continue on with my life. I know that finding an apartment to live in with a cat will be a challege, it always is when you have pets. It is far easier to find an apartment to live in if you are a smoker than a cat owner. I am prepared for that challege of finding a place that will allow him to be there with me. Home would not be home unless he was with me. I would go insane alone at night without him there in bed sleeping with me.
He has always done similar things like this since he was a baby. I cannot remember if I have wrote about him before in my first few blogs or not, but I feel chatty this evening, so I will tell the story of how our fates came together.
My senior year of high school my ex moved out of his home, so he decided to adopt a cat. Her name is Jinx, and she is mixed between a calico and a pure-bred siamese. I walked into our local aquatics store, and they seemed to always be doing someone a favor by trying to find homes for their litters of puppies, kittens or pets they needed to rehome. That day I walked in there just happened to be four kittens in a cage, all meowing and wanting attention. As soon as the door opened all four were right on me dying for someone to pay attention to them.
There had been five kittens, but one had already been adopted. Out of the four kittens two appeared to be calico and the other two were siamese looking. They were tiny, just wheened at 5 weeks old. Their mother had stopped nursing them, so they had been bottle fed from Day 3 of their lives, and thrived on human contact.
I kept Jinx with me for about two months, probably a little less than that. When Jeremy took her to live with him my mother finally allowed me to adopt a cat of my own. I had visited Jeremy's aunt and uncle's cow farm, had a kitten picked out for when she was wheened. When we went back to Jeremy's house he had been renting with some friends, they had rescued two little male tiger stripes from under the house. Both scared and untamed.
I spent a few days sitting in the back room they were kept in for hours, waiting for them to come out from behind their hiding spot behind the washing machine. I tried food, toys, anything for them to come to me. One was a lot smaller than the other, and the larger one had white paws and a white mark on his face, which looked like a scar. The smaller one was strictly a brown tiger striped cat. I had come to the conclusion they were siblings and that their mother was the black cat lingering around the house for months.
When the two were fed the older one would growl and protect his own. I could tell outside they hadn't had a whole lot to eat. Surprisingly they both were very clean.
After a few days, they eventually started coming to me. I knew I wanted one, would have loved to adopt them both so they would stay together, but I was only allowed one. I knew which one I wanted when he came up to me and fell asleep in my lap. He was still weary around me, but comfortable enough he fell asleep on my left leg. I chose the larger, dominating, white pawed kitten. The younger one became my friend Jessi's, and he was named Lil Jon. Sadly, two years later Lil Jon passed away from kidney failure.
When I brought Murphy home we all had assumed both cats had been girls. I had named him Belle. I always have wanted a female cat named Belle after "Beauty and the Beast." For two weeks I assumed he was a she. When I placed him in my room for the first time I had him on my bed. At the time my box springs and mattras was on the floor, and my mattras just happened to not align up with the box springs then, and it was pushed against the wall. This was his little spot he made his domain for a few days.
Every time I walked into my room the first few days he would hiss and go to his little area. I eventually placed a towel there, and that was where he would sleep. I would lie in bed at night and pet him. Every day he grew use to me. I still remember him crawling up and down my leg, digging his little nails into the thigh of my jeans to play with string.
He remained in my room for a week, but when I would bathe I would take him into the bathroom with me and he would sleep on a towel or play. It is a small bathroom so he was comfortable. The running water didn't scare him. When I was finished I would pick him up and take him back to my room.
Eventually I opened my room up to him to walk around the upstairs hallway and the bathroom. He slowly grew use to that. It was about a week after I adopted him that he was comfortable to go downstairs to explore, but only when I was around did I allow him to do that. We had a one year old Bloodhound at the time and we had just adopted a Basset Hound puppy named Scooby just days before or after we adopted Murphy. Scooby was not much bigger than he was. Murphy was about 8 weeks old when I brought him home and Scooby was 6 weeks old. Eventually those two were wrestling buddies. I cannot tell you how many times Scooby sat on his head or how many times Murphy would go for a ride on top of Scooby's head. Scooby eventually grew to be a 60 pound dog, and Murphy is a very large cat weighing in about 18 pounds now, and to this day they both tolerate each other. Being 6 years old Scooby moves a little slower, and Murphy still can act much like a kitten when he wants to, but they no longer play like they did when they were little.
When Murphy was growing up, I would sit in my room in an old arm chair my dad had while I was growing up and write on a laptop all my stories and ideas I had flowing through me. Murphy was often right there with me, sitting on the arm of the chair, or on my bed snoozing right beside me. Eventually he started cuddling up on my lap like he was (he just left to go eat).
When I am at home he follows me everywhere. It isn't very often I sit in my room and wonder where he disappeared to. Sometimes at night I lie down to sleep and he isn't beside me or at the foot of my bed. It bothers me sometimes when I lie down and he doesn't want to be in bed with me, but when I wake up the next morning he is most likely right beside me sleeping.
When I spend my days in Chillicothe visiting Jay I miss him. By the time I am driving away my mind always thinks of him and how much I miss him. Due to the weather here recently I have been spending my nights at Nichole and Bree's rental house snoozing on their couch. When I come home after school he's happy to see me. I always know when he misses me at night because he will either meow at me constantly, or snuggle up close when I am in my bed working on school work. Sometimes he meows at me when he is ready to go to bed. If I am up sewing late, he's right in my face. Eventually he gets the message across to me he is ready to go to bed.
Some people say cats do not have personality, and if they do it is a bitchy, hissy personality. Murphy has more personality than I ever thought a cat ever possessed in them. He knows what he wants and when he wants it, and it doesn't revolve around his stomach most of the time either. Do not get me wrong, he loves his food. At 18 pounds and overweight anyone could tell. I never thought I would have a cat this devoted to me, but he is. He thrives on my attention, and when I am not at home he eventually goes and causes chaos for my younger siblings, trying to sit on their laps as they attempt to do their hair (oh yes he does this to me too, unless I have the blow dryer). He sheds like no other too! My bed is constantly covered in dark cat hair. You can always tell where he sleeps at.
I have no idea what I would do without him. I refuse to move and leave him behind when I graduate, find my own place and continue on with my life. I know that finding an apartment to live in with a cat will be a challege, it always is when you have pets. It is far easier to find an apartment to live in if you are a smoker than a cat owner. I am prepared for that challege of finding a place that will allow him to be there with me. Home would not be home unless he was with me. I would go insane alone at night without him there in bed sleeping with me.
No comments:
Post a Comment