Six am

It’s 6 am and I’ve been up for an hour. My days start earlier and earlier. Thank God DS put in the window air conditioners in the bedrooms and the big one in the dining room. We are comfortable. It has been in the 90s here for three days. You wouldn’t think that would be too bad except that it’s 90 something and humid. And it went from 60 to 90 from one day to the next. Maine should realize that we need to step up to hot – not dump it on us all at once.

DH is up too. Usually I make him go back to bed but he’s hungry so I fed him. He’ll sleep in his chair soon.

Maggie announces the fact that Daddy is up – when she comes back downstairs (after she has checked out the food bowl at least once) I know he’s up and out of bed.

I love cats. It’s really weird because I was a dog person until 1997 when I got my adored Esme. Esme was in a cage at our groomer’s and we had taken Dottie the Yorkie for her ‘do. Sandy let me know she was looking for a home for her, I called my husband, he stopped and got the kitty.

She was long! And black with the cutest white markings. And a tiny little white underlip. She was a doll. Dottie was not thrilled with developments. She was an only child and wasn’t sure she was going to tolerate this invader from another species.

We kept Esme in the carrier at night and Dottie in our room. One night Esme got out of the carrier and I only knew this because Dottie started growling – she was the most laid back Yorkie you’d ever want to see.

They fought. Esme was playful at 9 weeks and Dottie was not at age 13. Esme would get up on her scratching post waiting for Dottie to walk by and BOOM jump off the post. Dottie would run Esme into the corner. It was exhausting.

One day I got up and came downstairs. Dottie was on the couch with her tummy exposed and Esme was giving her a bath. Oh really. So it’s okay to fight when the humans are around but we really like each other?

We left the faucet dripping for Esme to play with (bad) after Dad went to work. One morning she started meowing like crazy. I got up and the plug was down in one sink – the water was so high it had the one sink full – luckily it was running into the other sink. Such a cat.

Dottie died on Thanksgiving Day. She had had her teeth cleaned and I think it was just too much for her. She was older. She had a seizure and died very quickly.

When I got home Esme greeted me at the door. She came to bed with me that night and slept with me every night after that.

We moved here in 2007 and Esme got really sick right before Christmas. The vet was an idiot. So the day after Christmas I took her to the clinic and asked for the head vet. He took x-rays and found out she had a big tumor blocking her stomach. We had to decide to let her go or make her go through surgery. We let her go. She was only 10 and a really good cat. I didn’t want her to suffer through surgery and not being able to be the bouncy cat she was all the time.

We waited a bit and then adopted two cats. Wrong move. One of them was feral I think. She climbed the curtains until she reached the rod. Then she got scared and had to be pulled down. She had a broken pelvis when we got her.

They fought. They chased each other all over the house all the time. They woke up at 3:00 am begging to be fed. In the 4 months they lived with us they were never still for one minute. The constant noise was upsetting. They fought and snuggled.

Finally after not having any sleep for days – I took them back to the shelter. I still feel guilty – but enough was enough. One would have been ok. Two was mind screaming.

We waited about a year and a half. I went to the shelter a lot. Every time I would see a cat on the internet that I would like to meet – it was gone. We waited some more.

The kid wouldn’t go back to the shelter after my second visit. He wanted to take them all home. Me too.

Dad and I went back the beginning of September of 2009. They had lots of kitties. We walked around the cages summoning that special cat. I found a cage full of three light gray dilute tri-tiger baby girls and three black with white kitties. I told hubbie to stay there and keep an eye on the one in the corner. I went to get a worker to let me see the kitty with the lightest markings and hiding in the back. It took a long time to find someone but when we did she took kitty and us into a private visiting room. Kitty rode on her back all the way into the room. I held kitty and she stuck her claws out – little things – and hugged me back. I was hooked. We adopted her that day.

I learned her shelter name was Snap. There were three from this litter and they were Snap, Crackle and Pop. Snap was a good name – she came home and hid in her room between the bookcase and the bed and hissed at us. She would only come out if we dangled a purple mouse on a string and then she would jump at it and play. We did these kinds of things for a week. I noticed she had a red eye so one morning I just scooped her up. She weighed 3 lbs so I wasn’t at all worried that she would attack me.

I put her in her baby cat carriage and took her to the vet. Where she hissed at the vet and he told me she wasn’t joking. He said she had catitude which was cute now but wouldn’t be when she weighed 9 lbs. All work with this cat was done with a towel over her so she couldn’t see what was what.

We had to put an ointment on her eye and give her antibiotics. We had to play with the mouse to get her to come out far enough to pick her up. She got better.

After about a week here – she got curious about the world outside her room. I brought her down and let her play. After a bit I took her back to her room. She meowed – or cried really – she didn’t actually say meow until she was two years old. She didn’t want to be in her room any more. So I opened the door and she started exploring the house. She loved it.

She’s a cat that doesn’t want to be picked up. She would sit on Dad’s lap for hours but not ever get on my lap AT ALL and if she did she squirmed until I put her down. I had a lot of scratches. She liked DS and DH. Me, I was ok when I fed her and played with her. Otherwise I was just that person who went to work and let her be alone with Daddy.

Watching her grow up has been amazing. She is a princess with an attitude for sure. She loves to scratch leather. I had bought her a scratching post, a turbo scratch toy with a ball going around in circles and a scratchy board. Not to mention tons of balls and catnip toys. She loves toys but none more than her turbo toy. Turbo toy is really fun when humans are trying to watch TV and you can make the ball go around SO FAST it makes a lot of noise. And if that doesn’t work – what the hell – scratch the furniture.

The stuffing is showing on my leather ottoman. The stuffing is showing on more than one chair and I don’t look at the couch any more. It is not worth it. She won’t stop and it’s way too late now. And I love her so bad I don’t care.

We named her Maggie – after Dottie the Yorkie’s sister who had died before we got Dottie. She is truly a Maggie. She still hisses – not at us – but last week when the home healthcare workers came she hissed at a nurse. Now we know to get her into DS’s room. Then she doesn’t have to be frightened of all these new people.

I would love to have another kitty – but I know Maggie likes being an only child. I love my cat.




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