Because if there’s one thing the internet needs is more posts about cats! But seriously, I have 2 cats and they are my fur children. I guess it’s the lack of children, or the apparent ‘mind controlling parasite’ that I may have gotten off one of my cats. But they both mean the world to me.
Both have their own unique personality, both came into my life when it was necessary, both have personalities that I love. But all cat owners say that…
And to the dog lovers out there who say cats aren’t capable of showing love like dogs can, I disagree. I believe people like dogs because they are simple and need a lot of attention. They are happy having a master and are happy performing for their master for rewards, they are the ultimate companion to people, it’s been that way for a long time. As for cats, they are closer to the way humans show love, therefore not as appealing as a dog that shows unconditional love. They love conditionally, like we do, they are independent and too intelligent to have a master, just like us, they also can’t stand having attention on a constant, they need their time alone, does that not sound familiar? Dogs are happy being subservient, whereas cats strive to be our equal. So yes, I honestly believe that there are dog and cat people and they are both very much different. But I’m just going to talk about my cats, not the deep history or philosophy of cats or dogs (though it’s really interesting).
This is Puss. He’s the first pet I’ve ever had whilst living independently. I got him when I was with my ex, living in a caravan park. We saw a sign for free kittens, and he was the last one there, he was the runt of the litter which is hard to believe now considering he’s a 10kg cat now. The house we got him from was a gross drug den (not that much worse then our own), and we were already super irresponsible so in all honesty it was an incredibly stupid thing to get him. But considering now what his personality was and is like, anyone else would’ve gotten him put down, I am the only one I feel that understands him.
His name is Puss, but we originally called him Tigger, but no one called him that, they only called him Puss. And by they I mean me, ex and the countless teenagers that used to come around and smoke all our weed. I was 18, we spent a year in the caravan park till the ex decided to break up with us. Puss was super attached to my ex, which was frustrating because he worked and I spent the whole time with him, but that’s how it is, Puss is not the biggest fan of females or males that are loud so I was too much for him back then. When we broke up I told my ex to take him, but he refused. He gave up both of us, not just me, and Puss went through all the same mourning that I did. I’ll never forget that day. In the caravan park, begging him to take me back, the admitting defeat and calling my brother who had offered to let me live with them a week beforehand. He came and picked us both up, I didn’t take any stuff I just grabbed Puss and we took the drive about an hour and a half away. I’ll never forget how scared Puss was, how broken I was. Brother and boozy were living in a double story house in the middle of woop woop (bum fuck nowhere), so I got the whole bottom floor to myself. For three weeks Puss wouldn’t come out from under the bed, only to eat when I wasn’t looking, the caravan park was the only place he had known and we had spent the year there.
After the 3 weeks came the absolute aggression from him, he was almost to the point of feral. It was my fault though, I didn’t get him desexed when I should’ve. So I spent a few weeks getting clawed to the fuck by a cat that seemed to hate me. It was a hard time for me with everything going on, quitting drugs cold turkey, dealing with a breakup from a person that proposed to me, my beloved pet hating me was the icing on the cake, it hurt the worst. So I got him desexed at about a year and 3 months into his life… I still feel guilty to this day about it, I was an irresponsible fuck that’s for sure, just wanting a kitten because it was cute not thinking about the consequences or responsibilities of being a good pet owner. After that he got a bit calmer, he started sleeping with me at night and not attacking me as much, he still had the issue of hissing and growling at every person that walked past him though. I was also really super anxious and attached, I’d freak out if he wasn’t in sight, freak out if he was outside at night. Boozy got drunk one day and decided to try and ‘play’ with Puss, I fucking warned her not to (in boozys defence she loved animals, a lot more then people and just wanted to connect with Puss) so Puss scratched her, and her hand got infected and swelled up double its size. After that my brother forced me to take Puss to the vet to fix the aggression or else I couldn’t have him in the house anymore.
The first vet I saw told me I should have him put down. I fucking roared that day, you will never hear a noise like that come out of me again. The next vet told me they are experimenting with human anti depressants on cats, because I had no choice, no one would take me on let alone my cat and there was no fucking way he was going to the shelter as he would’ve been put down for aggression anyway, I chose to try the medication. My cat was on a quarter of a tablet of 25mg Prozac. Yes, my cat was on fucking Prozac. He ate a lot, spent most of his time asleep and didn’t like getting up to do anything at all. He was a limp zombie, he got really fat because of it too. And that’s another thing that was all my fault. I told my brother to go fuck himself, I told him I’d live on the fucking road in a cardboard box with him if I had to but there was no way I was keeping Puss on medication any longer.
After that he calmed down, a lot. He still growls and hisses when you walk past sometimes but won’t swipe like he used to. He doesn’t like other animals the same way he doesn’t like too many people. When he purrs though, you can’t hear it, only feel it because he purrs in a low frequency because he’s a large cat.
When I got kicked out of brothers and moved in with crazy bitch, Puss was far from aggressive, was scared most of the time instead. It stressed me out going to work, it stressed me out when I stayed over at good brothers house. It was just bad all round. Everytime I was home Puss would cling to me and not let me put him down. I would spoon him at night because he’d climb under the blankets. Going back to brothers and boozy after that, was tough for him. He loved mister the moment he met him so that made life at brother and boozys easier for him. He loved my parents place as it’s up in the mountains and they’re on a giant block of land. And being here, well, we have a tiny yard with huge fences, and because he’s too fat he can’t climb them so he’s stuck in the yard or inside.
Puss is a smart cat though, and lazy. He’s terrified of birds, the only thing he’s ever caught was a baby rat, and by caught I mean he stole it from a burrow probably. Hes strong enough to be able to open a wooden door, if the latch isnt out. He can also move a sliding door. He likes to sit and play with plastic bags, he also likes to chase your shadow, either at night or during the day. He likes to lay right behind my back when I sleep so I’m constantly hot. I always worry about his mortality, what I’ve done to him, he’s also getting older now. One thing I know for sure is though, when that cat dies, a piece of my soul will die also.
This is Tigger, I know fucking ironic right? The second cat has the same name that Puss was meant to have. We didn’t even name him, Misters 10 year old sister did. He was born in September 2014 so he’s just over a year and 4 months old, he hasn’t really grown too much either since then. It’s a funny story how we got him. Misters (psycho) mother has always been a dog person, she spent her whole life hating cats. So one day an abandoned cat starting showing up at her house, she felt bad for it so she started feeding it. Then all of a sudden she had a cat. Because she is incredibly poor and all that she couldn’t afford to get the cat desexed, so it got pregnant and had 3 kittens, Tigger was from that litter. We got begged to please take a kitten because she couldn’t afford them. And it was weird, we had to drive for 4 hours to get back home, and this kitten was purring and cuddling, fucking unreal for a cat in a car.
Tigger has got to be the dopiest cat ever. His first attempt at jumping onto a bench, he tried off a chair instead of the floor and instead of landing, he winded himself by not making it. We’ve got wooden floors so he will run and skid along them like a loonatic but can’t stop himself so he will run into the wall. He will pick the edge of the bed to lay on and when he starts falling asleep he will sometimes fall off. And even over a year old and he still plays like a kitten. He’s opposite to Puss, he’s not aggressive, a bit silly and a hunter. He catches a lot of things.
When we first got him, Puss did not want a bar of it. But after a couple of months, we got Tigger desexed and when we brought him back home and placed him on the bed, low and behold Puss layer down next to him, like he knew what happened and was trying to comfort. I think they secretly like each other now. They sit near each other all the time, but Tigger has a habit of playing with Puss’s tail which is never appreciated.
These are my fur children, I think I’d be a very unhappy person without these two. I think animals are what give us some humanity.