My Kittens
Growing up, I was always a dog person. I remember my mom letting me pick out our first family dog. It was a miniature Schnauzer named Duchess. Over time, we had another schnauzer named Chelsea. Both of them are long gone now, but somewhere along the way I became a cat person.
I suppose some of the blame falls on my friend Kevin. I’m not lying, the guy must of haved about 10 cats living in his house. Which of course is good if you like cats. But it’s particularly bad if you don’t like cat urine.
But, the person that deserves the most credit for turning me into a cat person is Monica. Monica was someone that I dated several years back. She was a lot of fun and it was quite clear that she loved animals. Monica had an array of animals in and around her home, and she had quite an affinity for cats. Oooooh, she loved cats.
Well, one evening Monica came over to my apartment and noticed a big black cat lying on someone’s car in the parking lot. She told me that I needed to get some food and feed the poor baby. So I did. Well, anyone that has ever fed a stray cat knows that once you feed a stray cat, that cat will NEVER go away. This cat began to stalk my door. As I would walk out in the morning, he would run up to my door and demand food. So I fed him. The next thing I know, the cat is in my apartment, and then I’m taking him to the vet and I’m getting him fixed and as I move from that apartment, I’m taking him with me. So over the course of a few months, I became a cat owner, and named my big black cat, Shaft.
That was nearly twelve years ago. Some things have changed since then. My mailing address has changed a few times. My waist line continues to get larger. I have hair growing in weird places, and I now have 4 cats.
When I got married nearly 3 years ago, there were very few animal control issues in our home. She had a dog and I had a cat. It was simple.
- Give dog food, give cat food.
- Let dog out, clean litter box.
- Let dog back in, beat the cat for scratching the furniture.
It was easy. But controlling the number of animals in your home becomes increasingly difficult when an extra added element is thrown in that most people don’t take into consideration; the ever popular “Can we keep him?” phrase.
Trace saw a little kitten outside while playing basketball with one of his friends and thought that I would just jump at the idea of keeping a new kitten. Why? Oooh, because I like cats. He had proof, I brought one with me when I married his mom. So imagine the look on his face when I adamantly refused. “Hell no, don’t ask me again, we don’t need anymore pets in this house. No!” He went to mom and she convinced me to let him stay inside for a few nights because it’s “cold” outside.
I’m a sucker. I agreed to let this animal in my house because it’s cold outside. I’m telling you though, this animal knew I was opposed to the idea because this cat crapped on my favorite blanket, not once, but twice. After the second time, my wife convinced me to throw it away and buy me a new one. Well, after a while, I warmed up to the kitty and Susan’s sister convinced me that this kitty was a male, so we named “him” Xander.
While this was going on, there was a stray hanging out outside of our back door. “He” was so cute because “he” was tailless and looked like a little bunny rabbit. Once again, I attempted to disprove the feeding of the stray theory by feeding “him” only to learn that I had been duped once again by a notorious feline.
As the weeks went on, and I fed my 2 inside cats and now my 1 outside cat, I began to notice that Xander was getting a little thick around the edges. I mean thick. Enough for me to ask my wife how much food she was giving “him”. A trip to the vet confirmed my fears, Xander was not a “him” he was a “her” and was very pregnant. The next thing you know, I’m becoming a worried father and crap and babying Momma Xander and making sure she’s all comfortable all of the time. I would ridicule Trace playing too rough with her and I’m making sure she’s being taken cared of all of the time.
We went out of town for Easter (we always go to my father-in-law’s in Houston) and I had a neighbor pop in and check on Momma Xander like 3 times a day because I was sure she was going to have her babies while I was out of town. She didn’t. We got a call from the neighbor once we got home and she informed me that she thought TK (Tailless Kitty) was pregnant also. How could that be? TK is a boy. Right? Wrong. I’m not about to have two pregnant cats in my house, so she’ll have to make do on her own.
On April 1, 2008 Xander started acting all weird by meowing excessively and following me around the house. I became concerned, so I decided to stay home from work that day because I was certain her babies were coming that day. (Hmm, weird, I took April 1 off this year too. Not planned.) So I made her a little comfy spot in the closet because it was dark and thought I would hang out with her for the day. I brought a book, a pillow and my Nintendo DS in there with me to keep her company. She didn’t have her babies though. She did during the night. She ended up having 6 overall, but 1 didn’t make it.
Anyway the next couple of days were filled with ooooooohs and ahhhhhhhhs from all of us admiring the little babies. Only a few days had passed since Xander (still inappropriately named) her babies when I noticed that TK was acting all weird outside. Shit. I knew what this is. I saw Xander acting this way just four days before. So I made a little comfy area for TK in my shed outside, propped the door open and left some food for her. I went inside to let me wife know and to show her to spot in the shed, when I was actually witnessing TK giving birth to her 4 kittens. 
We let a couple of days go by and we kept checking on TK’s babies, but were surprised one morning when all four od her babies were missing. Gone. Nowhere to be found. Except I did find them, in a box of tools and stuff in the shed. TK had hidden her babies. So thinking that I couldn’t handle the idea that those poor defenseless kittens would accidentally get hurt, I relented and allowed TK and her babies into the house.
So at that point, I had 1 dog, 1 male cat, 2 female cats, and 9 kittens under one roof. It worked out fine for a few weeks, but then those little eyes started to open up and they began to wander around the house. It got to a point where we had to literally perform what we called, a “baby count” before leaving the house. Believe me, it was much harder than it sounds. “One, two, three, fou….wait, I counted that one already…stay still, ok, one, two, three, stop moving damnit!” Instead it was like, “Ok, I have 2 tailless ones over here, I see 2 black ones over there, there are two gray ones with white paws over by the window, two gray ones with gray paws rolling around in the crap and Socks is taking a nap on the couch. Let’s go!”
We found a home for TK quite easily. The neighbor’s parents took her. My boss and his family took four kittens and we gave 3 kittens to a friend of a friend. We decided to keep the two tailless ones.
So that brings me back to where I am now. Taz (the dog), Shaft (the immortal black cat), the female cat named Xander, and my two babies; Chubs and Piglet. I’ve been thinking a lot about my kittens this past weekend, because yesterday they became 1 year old. My wife thought I was crazy for wanting to get them birthday presents, but she allowed me to anyway.
As last night winded down, I pretended to talk like one of the kittens out loud while my wife was in the room… “This was the best birthday I’ve ever had daddy!” To which she responded, “It’s a good thing I love you, because you’re freaking weird.”