I was never a fan of cats. I’ve always been a canine girl. I grew up with a Cocker Spaniel named Buffy, who I literally carried around wherever we went, and, later, a black Miniature Schnauzer named Heidi who was smart and seriously precious. Once I grew up, I wanted to get my own dog, but I never got around to it, mostly because I’m lazy I travel a lot and didn’t think it would be fair to my dog to be alone.
When I moved to dog-crazed Toronto, I started getting the dog itch again, mostly because of the hot guys at the dog parks I didn’t have any family here and was craving some unconditional love. I know myself well enough, though, to know that in the midst of six months of subzero temperatures, I’m not going to get up out of my warm, cozy bed to, not only walk a dog in the snow, but pick up its poop in the snow. As if.
I knew several people with cats and started thinking about getting a cat as an “unconditional love” alternative. But since I didn’t know a thing about them, I decided to go with the “try before you buy” mantra and foster a cat rather than adopt one right away.
I contacted Toronto Cat Rescue and, after a couple of false starts, finally found a foster baby that didn’t need medical attention*; in March, an adorable, six year-old female Tabby came to live with me! Her name was Agatha, but the only Agatha’s I know are old, warty, and witchy, so I decided to call her Abby**. To say the first night was rough would be an understatement. She moved in with me on a Wednesday night and because I’m sure she was completely anxious and nervous, she meowed literally all night long. I may have slept two hours (note to self: don’t start fostering a cat on a school night). There were some litter box and some sofa-marking issues the first week, but with the help of my new best friend aluminum foil, she eventually settled in. In fact, I’ve had her for exactly one month and she now sleeps on my extra pillow every night, which I think means she likes me. 🙂
I’m technically only fostering Abby, but I’d pretty much fallen in love with her after day three. When she cuddles up to me and purrs, my heart literally melts. It totally calms me and even when she gets annoyed that I practically lay on top of her, she still lets me get my purring fix. I bought Abby a $24 bed that she wouldn’t go near, but when I brought home a free box top from work, I couldn’t get her out of it. She loves playing with her crinkle ball and mouse, string on a stick, and pink catnip mouse, and when I can’t find her, she’s usually chillin’ in my soaker tub.^ The final sign that I’ve officially become a crazy cat lady, though? I started a Twitter feed for my cat. What can I say? She’s a true bird lover, after all. 😉 Check out Abby’s fierce tweeting skills at twitter.com/abbysmeow.
Clearly my poor foster cat is having to make up for the fact that I currently have no sugar daddy. Ahem. 😉
* Every cat they called me for required shot or medicine-giving. Being a first time cat parent, I was just not prepared to give some cat shots in his gums.
** Okay, I didn’t totally take away her identity, so don’t freak out. Her original family called her Tabby, so I figured Abby wasn’t too far off. What?