cats

My most favoritest boy in the world is my orange named Lamp. Lamp is a friendly, playful, silly, loud, cuddly, sharp, malevolent, pesty, barfy boy I couldn’t imagine living without. We got him from the used pet shop (Humane Society). We went not knowing what we were looking for. He had a special needs tag on his cage as he was brought in from a hoarder (which is how he got named Lamp) and then adopted and returned 2 weeks later because he didn’t get along with the children in his new home. But he immediately threw his whole body against the cage door for us to pet him and we knew he was coming home with us. Lamp has 26 toes and his favorite toy is a deer hide bee.

Mine is Oliver. He was fostered as a 2 week old kitten by my brother-in-law. After his divorce Oliver came to live with us, he's been with us for almost two years now. I have had other pets but I've never felt this close to another creature.

He loves to be near me and comes running when I call for him. Every night when I get ready to go upstairs to bed, he waits at the stairs for me, then runs up as fast as he can, then turns around to make sure I'm still following. He runs down the hall to jump up on my bed and wait in my spot, then kneads and snuggles and purrs and it just fills my heart with such joy. He's afraid of most people, but he loves me unconditionally.

I joke that we're both have an anxious attachment style because we were taken from our mothers too early, but I really do think that we understand each other and the need to feel safe.

Maybe this is dramatic but I truly don't know how I could live without him.

Milo / Mimo has a deep and peaceful soul that has been with my family for nearly eight years now. He is always the most serene presence in the house, and he always shows deep affection toward me, my wife, and my little girl. One of his preferred methods is to rest his forehead against mine with his eyes closed, purring for extended periods of time.

My little buddy is mine. I won’t share his name because it’s rather unique, I mostly call him little buddy or gremlin.

He’s a black shorthair cat. We got him as a rescue kitten and I loved him as soon as I saw this uglygoofy kitten run across his cage (over another cat) to get pets.

The first two weeks we had him all he did was have diarrhea in the closet and scream, he was very underweight and looked like a bat. Once he got up to weight he’s been healthy and active since.

He’s got a lot of personality and quirks. He follows me everywhere, he’s a total copilot cat. He’s very loud, he likes to sing the songs of his people. He loves playing and we have all sorts of dumb games (I play Air bud style soccer with him and he’s pretty good, and he really likes being chased into his cat tube or under the bed).

He’s also an anxious cat, which I think resonates with me because I’m rather anxious. But he seems to know when I am and just lays with me and it’s very nice.

He’s a very dumb cat, but weirdly easy to train. He responds to his name and a few commands or words, but he also gets lost easily and cries if he can’t find us in the house.

He sleeps with me every night and doesn’t like when I don’t share bathroom time with him.

I have two 15 year old sisters and they are both magical.

One is a sassy, clever girl who craves more human interaction than she will admit. She begs for anything I’m eating like a dog, and has an insatiable curiosity. She is very loving once she knows you, but is extremely wary of strangers.

Her sister is dumb as a box of rocks and the sweetest cat I’ve ever known. She will only eat cat food or canned tuna. No interest in chicken, beef, dairy, nothing. She adopted my nose as a kitten and still has a fascination with excessively licking it, 15 years later. She is curious only about her next boring ass meal or my current lap location. She is instant friends with any human that walks through the door.

They both came from the same litter. 😂

I’ve had a lot of cats and loved them all but these two are special.

His name was Doogle. He was a stray kitten One day he and his brother showed up at the first place I ever lived in as an adult with my roommate. He was a gray stripped cat. I'm a dog person, and he was the only cat I've ever truly loved. One day he was gone. I lived in a shitty trailer in a shitty part of town so maybe he broke out and left. Maybe he made it outside and didn't make it. But that year and a half he was in my life was great. I still miss him sitting in my shoulder from the back of the couch while I played video games.

Mine shared her life with me for eighteen and half years from my childhood well into adulthood. She was a beautiful tortoiseshell with smaller patches of colour than the typical tortie or calico (one of her kittens was a typical calico, though).

She was the matriach of our pets, but wasn't bossy or aloof - she simply didn't tolerate the dogs or the other cats annoying her, but was quite happy to sit at the door with them. She wasn't really a lap cat like my current one is (who happily curls up my lap as soon as I sit down 90% of the time), but she did enjoy company (she preferred to walk around you whilst you petted her) and would go on walks with you.

In her later life I no longer lived with my parents due to needing to move away due to university and then my job, but could not bring my cat with me (plus after over a decade living there with my family, it was better for her to stay with my parents in a familiar place and have me visit regularly). She got to sleep on my bed as she got older regardless of whether I was there or not. Towards the end she lost her sight and some of her hearing, but still knew who I was.

She is why I know God answers prayers. About two weeks before she passed away, she was outside whilst a family member was doing chores and disappeared. My parents searched for her for the next two days but could not find her. I could not get home until the weekend, but searched for her as soon as I could. The Sunday morning (I was due to leave again that afternoon) I tried one final search and begged God to bring her back to me. On my walk back from the very last place I could think of to look, I saw her in the distance and ran to pick her up. She was alive, just lost - she was less than 100m from home. I can still remember how shocked my family was when I brought her to the door in my arms. A week or so later I got a call from my parents that she was starting to wander around in circles and that the vet recommended she be put to sleep (as an interim measure the vet gave her a mild sedative and pain relief to ensure she wasn't suffering). It was too late in the day when I got the call to take her back to the vet, so I asked God to spare me from the decision. That night she passed away peacefully in her sleep.

It was hard losing her (even now, many years later I still feel the pain of her loss). For the first few months that followed I dreamt about her several times (never in a distressing way; it was like my mind was trying to keep her alive). Over the next 6 months or so I thought I saw her out of the corner of my eye whenever I visited my parents. I knew I couldn't get another cat at the time since (1) I was unable to keep one myself and (2) I wanted my cat back and it wouldn't have been fair to a new one.

It was years before I was in the position to get another cat and even then it wasn't ideal (my wife and I were renting at the time and the landlord wasn't keen on pets; since he was otherwise the ideal landlord I was reluctant to introduce any source of conflict), but that's when our current two arrived. A neighbour who had been feeding a batch of stray cats (I think to entertain their grandchildren) fled the city during the COVID lockdowns and we suddenly had an influx of cats in our tiny backyard. I readily gained the trust of most of them and we took them to the RSPCA to be rehomed (all successfully were).

We ended up keeping two of them - Whisper (a young male mackerel tabby about 8-9 months old at the time and such an incredibly friendly, social and intelligent cat) and Tabitha (then a 2-3 year old female brown torbie; she is almost certainly Whisper's mother and I am pretty sure I know who the father is, although unfortunately I was never able to catch him). For Tabitha, it took two months to gain her trust (we decided we had to keep her as she would struggle to adjust to a new home and new people; the RSPCA even flagged her as having behavioural issues, although we're pretty sure that's because they washed her chin and she didn't trust them after that). When we brought her home from the RSPCA, she wouldn't come out of the carrier into the cat enclosure we had built for her and Whisper until I sat out there with her and spoke to her - it seems that the sound of my voice was enough to convince it was safe. She had a lot of separation anxiety early on and used Whisper as a "threat meter" for the first 6-12 months. Nowdays we have our own property and both Tabitha and Whisper clearly feel safe with us; Tabitha regularly climbs on to my lap for cuddles (and often then rolls over for belly rubs). Tabitha and Whisper are very different cats to my previous one, but very precious. Whisper is a gem who succeeded in winning over not only my wife (who had very little experience with cats previously and is a dog person) but my in-laws too!

I posted this a few weeks ago but I'll do it again here. This is my blog post about my soul cat, Max.