Green Apple or Passion Fruit

I went to the pet store the other day to get Stitch some more food. He had about one meal worth left in the bin and I’m rather sure he knew it. I’m not sure if you’re like me but I like to make a list of things that I need to get. Then I walk into the store saying the things I need over and over … as if repeating them continuously will result in me only getting those things. It only works 25 percent of the time but I figure if I keep doing it maybe it will work more often.

With that said, once in the pet store I decided to take a look at some flea control shampoos. The little buggers have made breakfast, lunch and dinner out of my poor cat so I thought a good dip was in order.

The only problem was that there weren’t any flea shampoos that I wanted to get. Go figure! What did catch my eye was the line of shampoos called “Pet Head” by the company that makes “Bed Head” products for us human folk.

At first it was the bright colors that lured me to crouch down to look at the bottom shelf. Who wouldn’t want to take a closer look at those fabulous colors and fancy bottles?

However, upon closer inspection I discovered that each of these bottles had a different scent to them. They ranged from Green Apple, to Passion fruit, to Blueberry muffin, to Asian pear, to Strawberry yogurt, etc.

I actually considered what scent I would get for Stitch, if I ever wanted to give the line a try. Stitch didn’t seem like the passion fruit or strawberry kind of cat. It was down to Blueberry muffin and Asian pear. If only they had scratch-and-sniff labels I might have actually considered it.

The problem is that I didn’t think I wanted my cat to smell like anything good enough to eat. That and the thought of the “wet cat” smell plus whatever fragrance I paired it with wasn’t very appealing. It makes me think of those air fresheners that don’t do anything but fuse fragrance with the stench of the bathroom.

To my bank accounts relief I walked away from the fancy, shmancy pet shampoos. Another couple dollars saved from being spent on something for the cat that wouldn’t get used. For example, why buy a cat bed when our beds work just fine?

My Cat Is Pretty

On the way to driving the boys to school today the morning radio show had a segment called “My Pet Is Crazy…” where listeners called in with stories about why their pet was crazy. There are some nutty cats out there. The stories ranged from a cat who though she was a dog, to another cat who emptied out a lingerie drawer to another cat who would drag naked Barbie dolls up to her owner’s room and leave them in a pile next to the bed.

After hearing these stories I was a little disappointed to conclude that Stitch isn’t crazy. Stitch isn’t crazy in the slightest way …except for maybe when he gets high on catnip.

Instead, Stitch is vain, and odd and completely OCD. Yes, my cat is obsessive compulsive when it comes to his looks. Perhaps it's because he's an Orange County cat where most of the guys take the extra step when it comes to their looks. Maybe it's because he has all those pretty shades of gray and cream. Maybe it's because he has those extra thumbs so he feels the need to make sure the rest of him is pretty so people don't stare at his abnormalities.

Stitch is such a pretty cat. I don’t just mean that his fur is a pretty pattern and pretty colors either. I mean that he feels the need to make sure his fur is always in good looking order. He is always grooming his fur. He doesn’t like to play fight because it messes up his fur. If he is walking by you and you dare to pet him or brush up against him accidentally he will stop in his tracks and lick wherever you touched him back to perfection.

One time he got outside and I spent a good 25 minutes trying to get him to come back in. He declined the offer. I watched him frolic (and yes I mean frolic like a baby deer) across the empty lot next door in the moonlight. Halfway across the field he stopped mid frolic to lick a patch of fur on his shoulder. I guess the night breeze must have blown it the wrong way.

Do I really want a crazy cat that would dig my panties out of the drawer and hide them in a most embarrassing spot? I guess not really, but it would be fun talk and laugh about. Instead, I got the pretty cat who can’t go 10 steps without stopping to fix some patch of fur.

I guess that's part of the reason why he doesn't like it when anyone touches him. The boys try to give him hugs and he always has a look of disgust and irritation on his face as he slightly leans away. It must be tough to be so pretty. Maybe he should try being crazy just for a day to see what he’s missing out on.

Not Ashamed

I thought I’d share a heads up on a fact that you might have noticed from my last entry. Like any fabulous Cat Lady I am guilty of Anthropomorphism. In other words I have given my pet cat human characteristics.  It really isn’t limited to cats either. Any animal I meet that gives me attitude, personality or guff is going to be labeled and have judgment passed upon it. 


Don’t get me wrong. I’m fully aware that my pet cat is my pet cat. However, he really is quite a character. 


He gets really mad at me when I leave for a couple of days whether it is on vacation, business trip or short weekend trip overnight. Personally I like to think that he’s angry with me for leaving and not calling home to let him know that I’m OK. I also think that he possibly has mommy abandonment issues considering that his first owner abandoned him to fend for himself in the alleyway. Another theory is that he is just a spoiled cat who expects someone to feed him, pet him and pay attention to his beck and call and he’s not pleased if I don’t come home at night to do this.


Example 1: I went on a business trip to Savannah, Georgia. I left for a little under a week. When I came back Stitch looked at me when I walked in the door. He followed me to my room where I put my bags down and when I beckoned for him to come for a pat he walked away. Later that evening while watching TV with my sister he let me know that he didn’t need me because he had her. He ignored my asking him to cuddle and jumped up on her lap. And then he looked across the room at me and turned up his nose in my general direction. He got over it after a day or so, but I never forgot the way he let me know what he thought of my leaving.


Example 2: Whenever my husband or the kids are touching him, holding him, hugging him (he’s not a very physical cat unless he says it’s OK) he shoots me this look of death. OK, maybe not death but it clearly says “How dare you put me in this situation. I’m doing this for you because you made me come live here.” 


Those are just a taste of his personality showing through. As frustrated as he may be with his new situation I do have to hand it to him for slowing letting my husband and the kids in. We’ve been living with them for about 2 ½ years and Stitch is just lately starting to go to my husband for snuggles. He then jumps up and runs as soon as I walk in the room to pretend that he wasn’t and gives a look of disgust for me to see. I know he’s just putting up a front. 


Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’m not ashamed of the fact that I talk about my cat as if he were one of my kids. I know anyone of you reading is most likely guilty of doing it at least once in your life too. It’s only human nature in my opinion. And if you need some proof below is a photo of Stitch looking at me with anger, rage, disgust and shame. "How dare you put this stupid chicken hat on me!"

How I Became a Cat Lady

I’ve always been a cat lovin’ kind of girl. I grew up with cats (and a dog, and a bird, and fish.) And then I went to college, where I couldn’t have a cat. So I had to figure out something else.


I started my independent adult life off with betta fish and plants. The plants died. The betta fish actually lived (for the most part.) One of them died when I came home from school at the hands of my parent’s cat Gordita. But the other two made a cross-country trip with me to Michigan where I did another couple years of school.


Then winter came, and the snow, and the below freezing temperatures and my California mind frame didn’t get a heater for my fish. My fish froze. I then had access to my roommates’ dogs. They weren’t cats but they sort of filled that void.


Then I graduated and decided that Michigan and snow just weren’t for me and high-tailed it back to the warm West Coast.


In 2006 I decided to try plants again. They died … again.


That’s when I decided that I needed to have a cat again. One day I went to a shelter and met Stitch.


Stitch had been there for a couple of weeks. They thought he was around 2 years of age. He had been abandoned by his original owners and had been living in an alley way with his own couch and a refrigerator up to being brought into the shelter. Stitch also had thumbs on all four of his paws and wasn’t too fond of people…except for me.


They brought him into a meet and greet room and he came right up to me. When I saw the astonished looks on their faces I decided that Stitch and I were meant to be. So Stitch came home to live with my sister and me in Orange County. And I became an official Cat Lady.


Stitch had a couple of cat trees, all the toys he could want, good quality food and a cat fountain.


I’ve always joked that Stitch is an OC Cat. He is far too obsessed with how he looks. He is picky as heck about where he drinks his water from. He also doesn’t act like the stereotypical “manly, macho” tom cats. Nope. Stitch is by far the metrosexual of male cats. I’m certain that if allowed he’s get his eye brows waxed, he’d shop at Banana Republic for clothes and he’d go lounge out at the beach all day.


Stitch and I had a pretty good life going on. Then I met my ‘now” husband, and his three kids. And we moved up to the colder, Bay Area in Northern California. And now we have the new baby in the house.


Sometimes Stitch gives me a glare asking “How could you do this to me?”


All I can say back is “I’m sorry.”

Stitch doing what he does best - napping