Owned by the Best Cat Ever

I had a post all ready to go, but the family vetoed it. I understand why, but I felt a little stranded yesterday when I didn’t have a post ready to go. I have several drafts in various stages of completion, but none felt right. Instead of using any of those, I started a new one.

Most of you know me as a dog person. I love dogs. I love cats, too—I’m just not owned by them anymore. I have no interest in being owned by a cat, because, well, I was spoiled by one once.

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When I was in high school, a small kitten picked me in a parking lot (there’s something about me and parking lots) at the shopping mall. I was with one of my besties waiting for her dad to pick us up.

And there was this kitten. She was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen. When V.’s dad got there, we walked away. She followed and mewed and mewed.

How could I leave her in the mall parking lot? She was adorable. AND she wanted me to take her home. Don’t ask me how I know that. I just knew.

I scooped her into the car with V.’s encouragement. I decided on an awesome name, and V. gave her a middle name, because it sounded cool.

When I got home, I announced that I’d found a kitten outside. That wasn’t really a lie, was it? We lived near a creek and found animals all the time. (*Yeah. I totally lied.)

Here’s the thing about this cat: She was magical. Everyone loved her, even our dog who HATED cats. I told our dog that this cat was OK. That’s all it took. They were furry friends after that.

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She was my cat. She would play with anyone, sit in laps, ambush ankles (never used claws), and purr so loudly you could hear her across the room. If she heard my voice, she came straight to me. Maybe I was her human.

She sat in my lap when I did homework. She purred. She played with my pencil when I wrote. Try conjugating French verbs with a playful kitten batting at your pencil. She spoiled me rotten.

Bath time was an event. So, remember that I found her at the mall? Well, she was pretty dirty.ย  I put water in the bathtub and gave that cat a bath. I know what you’re thinking: “Diana, you didn’t put a kitten in the bathtub?!”

Oh, yes, I did. I was very careful, the water was warm, and I talked to her. If she was going to stay at my house, she had to be clean. She had one half second of freakout but calmed down and let me wash her.

Her other half-second moment of freakout happened when I used the hair dryer (low setting, of course) to help her get dry. I think she thought she was at a spa. She loved having her hair blown out! (I wish I had a picture of that.)

Best cat ever!

One night she didn’t come home. That was the mid-1980s when people let their cats (and even dogs) roam the neighborhood as they pleased. I called her for days. No answer. ๐Ÿ™

I’d like to think someone nice picked her up and took her home, because she was the sweetest, friendliest cat ever. If that’s not what happened, I don’t want to know.

Were you ever owned by the best pet ever? Are you a dog person, a cat person, or both (or neither)?

4 comments on… “Owned by the Best Cat Ever”

  1. The hardest thing ever is not having a body to mourn when that happens. I had a magic cat like that, and she just diasappeared too … maybe magic cats are just made that way.

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