Where can I begin? My arms-length obsession with cats began one day on my way home from Kindergarten.
A stray cat that my mom had been feeding, likely behind my father’s back, had kittens. Now if you’ve never interacted with a five-year-old girl, I promise you there is nothing more thrilling than baby animals. To say I was excited about my new porch cats wouldn’t cut it.
We had Mama Kitty for over fifteen years, and she was an outdoor cat.
My mom hated litter boxes, so she would tell me to keep the cat outside. Of course that didn’t stop me from sneaking the cat to my room on a weekly, dare I say daily, basis. I’d even give her a new name when she would act as my indoor cat- Lucy. It was classy and a perfect indoor alias.
It was a sad day when my mom found Mama Kitty all rigor mortised in our front yard. She had given me years of joy, and despite her inability to put on a significant amount of weight, I loved her. I always wanted a fat cat, so the day I met my cousin’s Maine Coons? I was in heaven.
If you haven’t seen one of these cats, Google it right now. They’re these big, fluffy cats that are full of personality. When I moved to New York, I would visit my cousin in New Jersey often, and every time I’d cuddle with these big, precious fur balls.
My closest friends have drastically different opinions about these creatures. Where Mer is obsessed, Meg is disgusted. And though Kate may crack baby cat jokes all day long, she’s not interested. Now Mo? She’s a different story altogether.
You see, she recently moved somewhere that apparently includes porch cats with their apartment rentals. She began telling me about her new cat, Kiki. I asked her if he was one of those dirty, stray cats, to which she all-too-naturally replied, “No, he’s handsome. He’s a Tom.”
Mo’s Porch Cat, Kiki, in all his glory.
Mo accepted Kiki as a sort of outdoor companion. She even started sending me pictures of him. Lately, I heard that Kiki’s been cutting ties. Apparently he bit her a couple of weeks ago, but when I asked her about it she said he’s still awesome, but “we just don’t make contact anymore.”
My husband is allergic to cats. I like to say he’s conveniently allergic to them because he’s never been a big fan.
He sure does stand his ground when it comes to the “No Cats” clause of our marriage. Maybe if I find a hypoallergenic bundle of joy he’ll give in, but in the mean time, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for a porch cat of my own.
Symba, my nanny family’s cat in New York.
You can have my porch cats 😉
Meow!
Megan– you have TOO many porch cats. Maybe I’ll take one.
Aly, Milo and Connor sure do miss you and are pretty excited to get a mention in today’s post. I can understand Zach’s position. We didn’t know James was mildly allergic until we already had both the boys, and I think, having met them, you understand why he decided to just deal with it. I couldn’t imagine my life without those two troublemakers! Also, thanks for teaching my husband the art of randomly placed conversational meows. Really. Cus yeah, that still happens.
I was hoping you would let them know I still think about them. Hahaha JAMES!! I am so honored to leave my mark in such a fruitful way. I can’t wait until we reunite and spontaneously meow together once again! Speaking of, we will be in New York from Sept. 28-Oct. 2nd. So we should get dinner in the city 🙂