It seems impossible to me that we’ve gone this long on the blog without a proper introduction to the two most important living beings in my life.
Guys. I know that they’re featured in each of my yearly goals, and I know I definitely mention them here and there, but I’ve never actually introduced my girls! This is even more of a travesty because they’re bookish!
I thought about waiting until their sixth birthday in April to chat about them, but every day is a good day to gush about the fact that I would probably be in jail if it weren’t for my little dependents, and let me tell you, they are definitely dependent on me. They’re so spoiled, it’s ridiculous. But, since they’re going to be six (SIX! I can’t believe it.), we’re going to take a little trip down memory lane. Prepare for waterworks.
oh goddddd I cannot THEY WERE SO LITTLE
We had just gotten Maverick in January, which, oh heck, why not:
Maverick was nine months, and the year was 2014. I had just graduated college, and my last cat, Peter (named after Peter Parker), had been missing for over a year. My parents wanted to get a new cat, and I agreed because I’m forever going to have cats. I am a cat person through and through. Like children, I like other people’s dogs. I don’t want kids or dogs of my own, but other people’s? They’re great! I can give them back when I’m done! But cats are the literal best things on the planet for me. I decided that these were going to be mine, though. Normally, my parents would adopt a cat, and though I always got to pick it out, they fed it, took care of the vet bills, actually did all of the adopting. And so, though the cat was mine, it didn’t really feel that way.
My dad came with me, and I remember my mom shouting on the way out, “Just one! I know she wants two, but just one!”
I hope you’re grinning as wide as I am right now.
We went to a shelter that I’d picked out (I don’t like the one near us because they’re all about turning a profit, so we traveled out of the city), which turned out be mostly just a house with a huge room devoted to the cats. They were all in cages, and it wasn’t like some random lady hoarding a bunch of cats, but it was much different from the very sterile, hospital-like environment of our local shelter. I immediately started wandering around, cooing at everyone, and generally falling in love.
I can’t tell you what drew me to the cage in the back left. I don’t know what. I wanted a boy because that’s what I’ve always had, and I wanted a tabby since we’d just had a tuxedo. (I also don’t know why I seem to have a tuxedo/tabby/tuxedo/tabby pattern going on, but whatever.) I was kind of thinking about an orange tabby, but I was used to tiger tabbies, and I think they’re adorable. I started to walk away from the left side when this little goober caught my attention.
She was lying on her back, all four paws stuck up in the air, sound asleep. I laughed and called my dad over. “What a weirdo,” he said as he smiled.
And then, from the front, came fateful words, “Those are sisters. We won’t adopt out just one.”
It was like she’d handed me a golden ticket. All thoughts of wanting a boy cat went out the window. I didn’t even really care what they looked like. I have to get two, I thought? SOLD.
I wanted the weird one and her sister, who was curled up in the back corner of her cage, panting in pure fear. Sure, I thought, those two broken ones sound good.
They were seven weeks old when I brought them home, and we were afraid of Maverick the goon trampling all over them, so I kept them in my small bedroom for the first three months. We eventually started introducing them to the rest of the house, though, to this day, they’re still shy and a little skittish. Well, to other people. I literally collapse on top of them sometimes, and they’re like eyyyyyyyy mom’s home!
And they’re my best, best, best friends ever.
Say hello to Lily! She is named after Lily Evans, Harry Potter’s mom, and she’s still the weirdest cat I’ve ever had the pleasure of hanging out with. She likes:
- When I put my face in her belly and kiss it
- To lick my entire face
- And also the window
- And sometimes the floor
- Heck, walls are fun
- Running to the highest vantage point when she sees my dad so that he can airplane pet her
- He pretends her head is a runway, and he smacks his hand down so that her eyes pull back. She thinks it’s the bee’s knees.
- Running at the speed of light
- Hair clips, crinkle balls, and q-tips
- Meowing at literally everything
- Being carried around
- Having her own seat at the table
Say hello to Grace! She is named after Grace Brisbane from Maggie Stiefvater’s Wolves of Mercy Falls series, and everything is the bane of her existence. She likes:
- Her space
- Love on her own terms, which means at any given moment and as close as she can get to me, how dare I try to go to the bathroom alone
- Cheek massages
- When I scratch her face, literally over her eyeballs, what a psycho
- Trying to love the dogs
- Stealing the spot you just vacated
- Hair ties, laser pointers, and light reflected on the wall
- Literally any food hand-out you’re willing to give her
- Batting her eyelashes to remind you she’s pretty
They also like to sit on top of my books (Lily) and smash their faces against my books (Grace) while I’m trying to read, and it’s wonderful.
I feel like this post isn’t really complete without dropping a picture of our last household pet, though, so here’s Penelope:
I’m 100% certain I don’t have a picture of all four of them, but Maverick is a black lab pit bull mix, and he just turned seven in January; Penelope is a toy Australian shepherd purebred, and she just turned three in November; Lily & Grace are tiger tabbies from the same litter, and they’re about to turn six in April. It’s a full house, but we have a damn fun time.