Misty is a black and white domestic
medium-hair. Some people say he looks like a cow! Yes, I
said "he". I found Misty in a junk pile near my house when
we lived in England, after listening to him yell all day
long. I took him to the military vet, who announced I had
a "she". He said she was about two months old. Given that
his first bit of info proved to be incorrect, I have my
doubts about the second; but nevertheless, we celebrate
Misty's birthday on 23 August, two months before the date
that I found him. Anyway, I took my new kitty back home,
named her Misty, and was convinced she was meant to be
mine. She had rubbed up against me at the vet, and once
home, had one accident on the floor, then no litter-box
troubles. About two months after I found her, I caught
Misty taking a bath. I'd had male cats before; this was no
female!! By now, he/she responded to "Misty". We tried
making it more masculine--"Mr. Misty". Sounded kinda
stupid. So, oh well, we now had a male cat named Misty.
Misty is no feminine cat. (Except maybe for his meow. I
tried teaching him a more masculine meow, but that didn't
work!) He's a big cat--he normally weighs 13 pounds. I
call him "pretty boy". I guess it doesn't help that his
pet carrier is pink!
Misty's favorite pasttime is sneaking out the door for the
nearest patch of grass. He's had respiratory problems,
more than likely due to his being born a stray, so I don't
let him out unless he sneaks there. Anybody who owns a cat
knows this happens even if the door is open just an inch!
I don't have to worry; he won't go far, as long as grass is
right there. Even big, friendly black labs who pin him
down on his back don't deter him from getting that grass!
Another thing he loves to do is play with the water in the
bathroom sink. The water must be running just barely above
a trickle. He will snort and sneeze, letting the water run
down his forehead right into his nose. I tell him there
are easier ways of getting a drink, but I think he does it
because it's fun. I also think he takes great delight in
shaking afterward, drenching the entire bathroom! He also loves to curl up in the sink and sleep! See picture here!
Misty gets very lonely, even though there's almost always
someone around! He used to be all over us after returning
from taking my oldest to the bus stop--we'd be gone maybe
ten minutes! He also doesn't care for our daily trips to
the mailbox. (I think he's just jealous because he knows
we were out there where the grass is!) Hence the decision
to catsit Abby. However, they don't care for each other.
Abby has become very dominant, due to having to deal with
so many other animals in her life. She's half Misty's
size, but she definitely is queen of the house--at least in
her eyes!
Another of Misty's adoring, yet sometimes embarrassing
quirks is his habit of sniffing everyone who comes through
the door. Whether it be us, or strangers, he's not shy
about getting right into somebody's face, or hair, or feet!
I think it has something to do with that grass again! He
definitely prefers female humans. (He's been known to fall
in love with the Avon lady!) If a knock at the door
presents a female, he's nosy. If it's a male, he's at the
other end of the house in a flash, usually under a bed.
The only male he tolerates is my husband. This may be due
to the combings he gets from him, or it may be his way of
winning the contest for the recliner!
I love my Misty. We've been together now since 1990.
I've come to adore his strange habits, and the way he
cuddles under my chin when he realizes he's been
"abandoned" too long for his liking. I always fall hard
for my cats; this one is definitely no
exception.
In January of 2000 we made our routine trip to the animal shelter. You see, our shelter collects aluminum cans and newspapers to recycle for money. We've been recycling since we lived in England, and we thought that being able to continue to do that and help out the shelter at the same time would be a great thing. This day in January we took our recycle down, but there was a sign on the newspaper dumpster that said they needed the papers inside for the cages. We went inside to ask what to do with them, and they said to set them in the lobby. Thus our fate was sealed. :-) We went inside. We hadn't really planned on picking out a new cat that day, it just happened. We (my husband, two daughters & I) must've spent individual time with almost every social or semi-social cat in the shelter. The cat we chose to leave with that day was not Molly. But this is her story.
The shelter has two areas they keep cats. The first main area was being cleaned, so we went to the second area first. As soon as I walked into that room, Molly spoke to me, literally and emotionally. She let out a small meow, and I went right to her. She sat upright in her cage, almost out of reach. Her big bubble eyes seemed to plead with me as she looked right into my eyes. I stuck my fingers through as far as I could and was barely touching her, but I started to stroke her on the side of her face. I spoke to her softly. I could tell she was scared. I must've stood there for 10 minutes, and slowly she started pushing toward my fingers, eyes rolling back further and further. I wanted to hold her, but I knew she wouldn't let me, she was just too nervous. I wanted to tell my family immediately that I wanted her, but I knew it was their decision also, and she was so nervous. I wasn't sure how she would react to us, or to Misty, once out of that cage. They told us that she was 2 or 3 years old, had been fostered but had been returned, along with a dog the family had also fostered. I don't know what her history was before being fostered.
I moved on to other cats. The cat in the cage directly to Molly's right turned out to be Shadow. (See story below.) I continued looking at all the cats. They finished with the first area, so we went out there, also. We took several of them out. There were two other cats there I could've taken home. Actually, I probably could've taken them all! After quite some time we made our decision and left, about 30 minutes after the shelter's closing time.
We only live about 10 minutes from the shelter, but by the time we were halfway home, I was in tears. I told my family I felt just awful leaving the shelter without Molly. I felt such a connection to this cat, I could hardly explain it, but my reaction apparently spoke it all for me. My husband looked at me and said "I would be ok if we got them both." I cried and laughed. When we got home, we immediately called the shelter. We knew it was past closing, so I wasn't surprised to get their answering machine. I told them "We want Molly! I will call you tomorrow." I hung up, and the girls and I jumped into my car and went to the store to buy two of everything! When we returned, my husband said the shelter called about five minutes after we had left, they were afraid we wanted Molly instead, and were very relieved to hear we wanted both.
As I write this, Molly has been with us for 8 months. She is still a shy cat, possibly due to being one of three. Her older brother is the ruler...they tolerate each other...and her younger brother is, well, a younger brother! She is slowly warming up to each of us. She will walk up and stand so she is touching you. Once in a while she will surprise us and jump onto a lap, but not for long. She loves the dripping faucet also, and like Misty, seems to think she can only drink from it while being petted. She has several nicknames now...Miss Molly, Miss Swishy-Tail, Miss Big-Eyes. At this moment, she is on the floor not two feet from me. She is never far away, she seems to really need to know that we are right there. I look at her, and I know she is in the right place, she just needs a little more time to know this for sure.
Ahh, my Shadow. Shadow is unlike any cat I've ever owned! He is all black, with a small white area under his neck, in the middle of his tummy, and just below his tummy. If you stand him upright, it looks like an odd snowman! Oh, and he has one white toe.
Back to the shelter story...as I said, Shadow's cage was right next to Molly's. He was adorable, right from the beginning. The woman from the shelter came in at that moment, and said we could get him out. She told us his background: he was about 7 or 8 months old, and had just been picked up as a stray. I took him out of his cage, and he nuzzled up to cuddle. My girls immediately wanted to hold him, so we all took our turns, then we put him down on the floor and he started to play with a ball that had been in his cage. He made us all laugh. We continued on with the other cats, spending about an hour and a half in total making our decision. In the end, we all decided we had liked the kitten. He was so affectionate and playful. We filled out the paperwork for him, and they asked us for a name. We were a bit stunned, we'd just met the cat! I said "Blackie?" and everyone said that was ok. But we couldn't take him home that night. As he'd just been picked up, they had to allow time for a possible owner to claim him. I made arrangements to pick him up the middle of the following week, at the veterinarian's. The shelter closed before I could get back into town. He would have to go to the vet anyway to be fixed so I could just pick him up there.
I was rather startled by his condition the day I picked him up. A volunteer at the shelter went back to get him. When he brought him out, he looked pathetic! He looked wet, and very sleepy! The man said "Is this your cat?" I said, "Um, I think so!" He said, "No, I think he is my cat." I said, "Excuse me?" and looked at the receptionist. She said, "William tries to steal all the animals here, he is your cat." Relieved, I looked at William, reached out for my cat and said "He's mine!" William reluctantly let go. As soon as I brought the kitten to me, he nuzzled under my chin real hard and made a small noise. The receptionist laughed, and looked at William and said, "Oh yes, he is definitely her cat!" (By the way, William still works at the vet, and hasn't tried to steal any of my cats since!)
I made sure he was ok to leave, considering his condition. They assured me he was ok, just still under the effects of the anesthesia. When we brought Molly home, we kept her in the kitchen, as it was the only room in the house we could isolate to keep her separated from Misty. Molly and Blackie had been put together in the shelter before we brought Molly home, and I didn't have another room to isolate, so we decided to just keep the two of them together at first, then slowly introduce them individually to Misty, then eventually put all three together. With Blackie in the condition he was, I knew I couldn't put him in the kitchen with Molly that night. I came in the house through the basement, up the stairs, and into the laundry room, which is separated by doors from the rest of the main part of the house. My girls met me there, also upset by Blackie's condition. I told my youngest to go get me the cordless phone, where I immediately called my husband. I explained the kitten's condition, and asked his permission to keep him in our bedroom for the night. John has liked all my cats, but has always been adamant about their not sleeping with us. All of us shut our doors at night. He said it was fine for the night. We each spent time with him, kept to a minimum due to his grogginess. He wanted to lie on each of us, but he started to get his vim and vigor back pretty quickly and explored the room, running back to each of us if we made any noise.
Our first night with Blackie was almost sleepless. He immediately found his spot with us on the bed. We talked to him and stroked him for a while, while he purred away. When we decided to turn the light off, he plopped right down inbetween us. John made the mistake of turning over onto his side, and the kitten got right up on top of him. After about 10 minutes, John said, "Ok, this isn't going to work." I said, "Come here kitty," and he came over and settled under my chin. He spent the night trying out various spots on the bed, eating, and exploring the room. We woke up countless times as he found various things to play with and knocked things off our dressers. By the next morning, kitty went into the kitchen with Molly!
About two months after we brought Blackie home, I called a family meeting. I explained that Blackie's name was just not going to cut it, and I knew exactly what his name was. I explained that I had never really liked Blackie anyway, but was put on the spot at the shelter for a name. Everyone agreed it didn't feel right, and wanted to know what I thought it should be. I explained that ever since we brought him home, he had been right behind somebody, either human or feline. He was always annoying Misty, who now acted like the old grandpa. You could almost hear him say, "Ahhhh, kids!" Blackie wanted so much for Misty to like him. I thought he might be the dominant one, but I guess because of his age, it didn't end up that way. Misty was definitely the King of the house. And Blackie desperately wanted to be accepted. He would follow him around, and just when you thought Misty would turn around and swat him, he would drop to the floor and roll over and look at Misty and meow. He did this also with Molly, but we could tell it was Misty's acceptance he was after. Molly was just the big sister, and his main objective with her was to annoy! We found out quickly that Molly is a growler. And rightfully so!
Blackie also followed people. Whoever was around, he would be right behind. It's amazing he didn't get stepped on as much as he did! He would trot right behind when someone walks through the house. Because of all this, I knew we had to change his name to Shadow. Everyone immediately agreed, but it was a difficult change, especially for my oldest, who called him "Blackie-Shadow" for the longest time! His name has finally been permanently changed...nobody calls him Blackie anymore.
Shadow is the most vocal and fun cat I have owned. He is over a year old now, but still has that "kid" attitude. Everything is amusing to this cat. He will play with anything, especially if it is small and roundish, or long and skinny like a writing utensil. I have sat writing at my desk, only to have this cat sitting on my desk and attacking the top end of the pen as I write! We have learned quickly to put any writing utensils in drawers or cups. Leave it lying out, and it's fair game!
Shadow is always either playing with something, or running around the house chattering, or sleeping ever so soundly right in the middle of everything....middle of the floor, middle of a bed, middle of the couch...stretched out in complete bliss. He was a curtain-climber when he first arrived, but that was quickly stopped. Now his biggest disaster is knocking over a three-legged table I have by the front door. I don't keep anything on it but a tablecloth (thank goodness), which he loves to hide under and attack anything that walks by. He's also a licker. He loves to lick! I will come out in the morning and not even know he's around until I feel him licking my shin! I guess he has to give us kitty kisses to make sure we know he loves us! Shadow also has a trait from his big brother...see this picture!
Some people think we are crazy to have three cats. They are all special in their own ways, they each have traits that make them just adorable to us. They have finally learned to live peacefully all together. My house is just perfect! For now...until we buy our own house, then John can get his dog!!