Showing posts with label maine coons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label maine coons. Show all posts

Thursday, January 8, 2015

A Tale of Two Kitties: Meet Vegas and Reno

Since I am planning to roll out some pet product reviews coming up, the thought occurred to me that I hadn't yet formally introduced my cats to the blogosphere! And, since they're the ones who are going to be doing the reviews, I figured it was only right!

One of my favorite pictures of Vegas of all time.
First things first. Let me tell you about my old friend Vegas. I met Vegas when I was 19, and I worked at the local animal shelter. He came in as a stray, and I just so happened to be working in admission that day. Since part of my job was to name the animals, I forewent the weird Pokemon and other theme names, and settled on Vegas. He just looked like one, to me. He was beautiful - after a bath and a brush, he was fluffy and happy - all ten pounds of him, a little skinny after too much time outside. He has had such a great attitude since day one, and I noticed that, and the 'thumbs' on his front paws due to polydactyly, right away. Policy was to hold pets for ten days when they came in as a stray, and then they would be put out onto the adoption floor to find a new home. Unfortunately, he wound up with a pretty gnarly upper respiratory infection, that left him in the isolation area for several weeks. From the first time I saw him, I think I loved him. Every day, I would make it a point to visit him if I wasn't working in that area, and I think he knew all of it, too. Have you ever heard the phrase that pets pick you? I really and truly feel like he did. I let him go out for adoption, and he sat out in a cage for around a month. It was summer, and we didn't have the space. Even then, I went in every day, got him out, and let him run around the room and played with him. Until the day that I got the unfortunate news that if I didn't foster him, he would be put down. So, of course, being 19 years old and living with my parents, but knowing damn well I wasn't going to let them put him down, I called home and told my dad I was bringing a cat home. His response was, "Like hell you are!" But within about twenty minutes of being at the house, it was my dad who brought him into the living room first. From there, I fostered him - even taught him to walk on a leash so I could bring him to adoption days at local pet stores like Petco. I had had one foster cat in the past, who I did the same thing with - his name was Monster Paws as his polydactyly gave him two extra digits in front and one in back - but who found a home with two people who worked at the store. I thought this would be the same situation - eventually, Vegas would find another home, and I could rest easy knowing that I saved another one. I made a flyer with pictures of him, and his story, and had it on the counter of the shelter (it was risky to bring him back and forth every day, since I didn't want him to get sick again). Three separate people made appointments with me to visit with him at our home. Three separate people stood me up. That was the only sign I needed, that this was meant to be, and that this little dude was meant to hang out with me forever. This April, it has been ten years (I use their adoption dates as their "birthdays"). And boy, has the time flown! I really and truly don't know what I would have done without him, in some of my darker times. He has always been around to hang out near me, and all around just make my life better. I am thankful, every day, that we found each other.

Reno, the day I rescued her from that cage.
On April 18, 2012, I lost one of my kitties, TK, to kidney failure. I have always had two, and couldn't see Vegas without having a buddy to hang out with. I went to the animal shelter on the 19th, just because I was sad and wanted to take my mind off of it, never imagining I would meet the newest member of the family just then. I walked through the rows of cages of cats and kittens, laughing at a fat old gray cat they named Gus, only because he seemed super ornery. In one of the cages, though, I found this ridiculous looking black and white cat, with her whole body shaved minus her paws, head, and tail. I found out then that her previous owners did not know what a brush was, and that was the reasoning. When I went to see her, she had a nice attitude, and meowed at me a couple of times - TK had been a talker, so it was something I was looking for - but when I walked away from the cage, that's when I knew. She got up on her hind legs, and pawed on the door of the cage, and meowed at me a couple of times. When I walked back over, and stuck my fingers into the cage, she brushed herself back and forth on the door, and I was set. The shelter did free adoptions for pets over a year old, and I figured I had nothing to lose, so I jumped. I have never lost one pet and adopted another so fast before, but it has been great. I decided to name her Reno, and have theme names for my cats - I figured it would be cuter that way.

Besides the first couple of days, Vegas and Reno became fast friends. They aren't typically the kind of cats who snuggle together, but I think they do it when I'm not home.

Vegas is all "Yo, who the F are you?"
Without the two of them, my life wouldn't be nearly as exciting, and you know what? I love them both, dearly, for it.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Currently...

Sitting in bed with a sleeping cat, ready to go to bed myself, and decided to write a little note to just say that I am still alive. See, I've spent the last few months learning how to live again. As dramatic as that sounds, its' true.

It ended with a text message that read 'you are dead to me'. I knew it was over from there. Packed up, moved out, and I was left with the haunted house. Not haunted, literally, but haunted by the love that once lived between these walls. Haunted by what used to be and what isn't anymore. Instead of staying friends, I decided that for me, for my own sanity, it was better to cut all ties. I didn't want to play games, and I didn't want him to, either.

For everyone that thinks that it's easy to break up with someone you lived with, let me just tell you that it isn't. It sucks. Coming home to what looks like a ransacked living room, that only looks that way because the couch, TV stand, and TV are gone, and all that's left is a pile of cable boxes and the line in the carpet where his couch used to be. I rented a Rug Doctor like an adult - got rid of all the stains, as good as a chalk outline so far as I was concerned. The outline of the death of our relationship.

Before thinking that I'm wallowing in some sort of self-pity over here, let me just say that no, that isn't the case. In the two or so months since this has happened, I've gotten promoted at work, got a new car, and have a moderately successful handmade business. All in two months. I don't have time to wallow - hell, I barely have time to work some days! I'll leave you guys with a few pictures from life these days - and promise that I'm working hard, as my show schedule slows down, to get back to writing. It's not something I like not doing. It feels like something is missing, to me, and I'm more than ready to get back to the way life should be.

An amazing sunrise on my way to work!
A recent show's booth setup.
The crazy waves here in the MKE due to
Superstorm Sandy.
Cupcakes I made as a Halloween surprise for the shop -
I made a little mess with the frosting, as usual.
My Day of the Dead makeup from hosting trivia
on Halloween night!
Me hanging with my favorite little dude.

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