Hello friends!
Today I want to talk a bit about National Cat Day and my feline siblings (I am my mom’s only child; she filled her empty nest with cats).
According to Wikipedia, “National Cat Day was founded as a way to bring awareness to the number of homeless cats. It is a celebration that takes place on October 29th, every year in the United States.[1] The National Cat Day website states that the holiday was first celebrated in 2005 “to help galvanize the public to recognize the number of cats that need to be rescued each year and also to encourage cat lovers to celebrate the cat(s) in their life for the unconditional love and companionship they bestow upon us.””
I grew up with cats, and although we didn’t adopt them from shelters, we never paid for them at a pet store. We never had any pedigreed cats, or even any breeds that were identifiable other than “American short hair”. I know Bengals and Savannahs are all the rage right now, but I would encourage you to adopt a cat from a shelter before buying one from a breeder. In fact, California just banned the sale of puppies, kittens and rabbits in pet stores unless they were supplied by a rescue organization and not a breeder (see here for more info).
Most of the cats I had growing up were found, abandoned, unwanted. Here are the stories of the current five cats my mom has, starting with the oldest:
This is Boogers. I got her when I was eight, so the details are a bit fuzzy. What I can tell you is that a neighbor I was friends with at the time had a cat that had kittens (I don’t know how they ended up with a pregnant mama cat). My half sister took one of the litter and I took Boogers. My mom started calling her Boogers because of the black spots of pigment on her nose and the name stuck. Boogers was my constant companion growing up. She followed me, slept in my bed, and was best friends with our dog, Penny. Boogers is 21 now and is definitely showing her age but is still one of the best kitties I’ve ever had.
Next is Elvis. Elvis is my mom’s special boy. He hates everyone but her. My mom started feeding a stray cat at her work – we call her Mama Kitty – and before my mom could catch her, Mama Kitty got pregnant and had Elvis (I’m not sure if she had more, Elvis was the only one we ever saw). It took a while for my mom to catch Elvis, and because he started out as single kitten and a feral, he’s not friendly and doesn’t play very well with others. He’s a beautiful cat. He has cream and grey stripes and striking blue eyes. I think Elvis is about 9 now. Unfortunately he recently broke his tail and had to have most of it amputated. So we call him Elvis-Bob (because of the bob tail). He is still beautiful and still hates everyone but my mom. Mama Kitty was spayed shortly after Elvis’s birth and my mom still takes care of her at work.
This is Sheldon. He is the softest, cuddliest, sweetest little roly poly of a cat and his story is one of my favorites. While I was away at college, my mom noticed this little ginger beeb chasing bugs under the streetlight at night when she was out walking the dog. He was very friendly but didn’t have a collar. He was very thin, and my mom, unable to resist a starving kitty, starting leaving wet food out for him. One night she followed him after he ate and saw him head to a house around the corner (funnily enough it was the very same house where Boogers was born – my friend had long since moved away). She spoke to the woman who lived there, Pam, who told her the following story: a friend of hers who lived in Las Vegas was coming down to visit, and, surprise – was bringing a cat along for the ride. The cat, then named Houdini, belonged to her daughter who was entering rehab and could not keep the cat. Her mom didn’t want Houdini either, so she was bringing him to Pam, who also didn’t particularly want him. Pam took him in, but shortly relegated him to living underneath the house. She claimed she could not let him inside because he was eating her out of house and home, having dragged a raw chicken off the counter and under her bed as well as destroying a couple of loaves of bread. Pam claimed Houdini refused to eat dry cat food. My mom thought this was odd, as cats do not eat bread, and Houdini was perfectly happy to eat wet food at our house. With Pam’s blessing, my mom took Houdini home. Shortly thereafter our veterinarian told us that Houdini’s teeth were in terrible shape. He’d been in so much pain that he couldn’t eat dry cat food, so naturally went for raw chicken and soft bread. Once his teeth were fixed he was more than happy to eat crunchies and never once stole human food off the counter. We think Sheldon is about 6 or 7.
I didn’t care for the name Houdini. My mom tried Vegas for a while but that didn’t stick either. We couldn’t get over how soft he was! My mom started calling him “soft kitty”, and I’m sure you know where this is going. I started calling him Sheldon, and much to everyone’s surprise, he responded with happy meows. He’d finally found his true name and his forever home.
Next is Susie. Susie also has something of a long, sad story. She was given to my cousin by a girlfriend when he was 16. The relationship didn’t last, but Susie was happy to be an only kitty in my uncle’s house. Several years later my uncle took in two labrador puppies. They terrorized Susie, who was not used to sharing her space. Susie disappeared for longer and longer periods until finally she didn’t come home. The Baldwin Park Human Society called my cousin several days later and told him they had Susie. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have a place of his own but Susie couldn’t live with the dogs. My mom stepped in and took Susie home. It took Susie a while to adjust, and I’m sure she would still prefer being a single kitty. She has this funny habit of playing wildly until she realizes someone is watching. She gets along with my mom’s dog, Billy, and swipes at him from the top of her kitty tower when he passes by. Susie is 13 now. We call her Susie Q, and even though she’s a pill to the other cats in the house, she’s a very loving kitty.
Last up is Frank, aka Frankie. Frankie also has a tragic tale turned happy ending. He originally belonged to my cousin, who had Frank and an older kitty named Patches, as well as two dogs, living with her and a roommate in a tiny apartment where she was only allowed two pets. Her landlord found out and evicted her. The roommate took one dog and my cousin ended up with three pets and nowhere to live. She found a place that would take the dog but not the cats. Frank and Patches ended up with her mom, my aunt, even though my aunt already had two dogs and was only allowed two pets. Because Patches was already in her twenties, my aunt was considering putting her down. She tried to make Frank a “work” kitty but he kept finding his way home from her shop. When my aunt told my mom this story she was furious. She went to the closest pet store, bought two cardboard cat carriers and took Patches and Frank home that day. Sadly Patches passed earlier this year. I’m not sure exactly how old she was, but somewhere around 22-23. I’m so grateful my mom was able to give her a stable and happy home for her last couple of years. Frank is about 4 now. He is a happy, playful kitty with a wonderful personality. He gets along with all the other kitties, is kind to Boogers, and even plays with Billy the dog.
That post got long! Thank you if you’ve stuck it out this far. I wanted to share these stories to encourage you to offer a home to a homeless kitty before you go shopping for one. Most of the kitties in my life, including the two I have now, were unwanted or abandoned. It breaks my heart when people treat pets like they’re a convenience, giving them up when they have to move or when taking care of them becomes too difficult. Pets are a lifelong commitment, but the unconditional love they offer is beyond worth it ❤
curious as a cat 