When I say she’s become the center of my universe, I mean I’m obsessed with her. Like, people keep telling me I should have a baby instead and I respond with “NO WHY DON’T YOU HAVE A BABY?!” and they say “I do have a baby” and I’m like “Whatever. At least I can leave my cat alone for a day and she won’t die.”
FatFace is a remarkably low-key cat considering she spent her entire life on the street. Though she’s still skeptical of most humans, she will not bite or scratch when handled and our vet constantly praises her passivity. It’s because of FatFace’s chill demeanor that I decided it was a smart idea to drive her to 18 states of America.
Having lived on the street for all of her life, I wasn’t sure how she’d take to her digs.
Would she shred my face while I slept?
Would she hide under the bed for the rest of her existence?
Would she beg to be released back into wild world she was used to?
None of those things happened. Instead, we began developing a bond so strong that I, a self-proclaimed cat non-enthusiast, found herself utterly and completely head over heels.
(I must tell you that as I type this, my cat’s head rests less than two inches away from the keyboard, her butt is under my chin, and she’s intently watching the letters dance across the screen. Dammit…she just put her claw on the space bar and keysaaqwjefprgn kbfldblhldf (more…)
She being FatFace, a 5-pound adult feral with three teeth, a bruiser face and a heart made of cotton candy and Nicholas Sparks books.
Over the course of a year, this orange street cat went from looking at human beings with extreme terror and skepticism to now rubbing her face up against mine and sleeping on my chest nightly.
Watching FatFace transform from a malnourished wilding to a happy snuggler has filled my heart with so much joy, sometimes I feel like throwing up. I’m in love, and I’ve quickly spiraled into the malady (more…)
I’ve officially become Adult With Cat. (I’ve never had a cat before; I’ve always been a dog gal.)
But she’s not any ol’ cat.
Let me share with you the story of how FatFace and I found each other.
This is FatFace:
She’s a feral and has lived on our block for at least five years.
She was part of a feral colony my neighbor took care of, and which I’ve subsequently taken over after my neighbor moved across town.
I enjoy our cat colony, which totals between 10-12 mostly black or Russian blue cats, but let me tell you something about taking care of cat colonies: Don’t publicly share that info at parties. One time I was at a networking event and met a handful of interesting people and had to stop this sentence from coming out of my mouth: “Oh, man. I have to get going! My cat colony is going to be piiiiised if I don’t get home soon for feed time.”
(Side note: Though I now do the feeding, my former (more…)