I will admit it. I am a cat fancier. I used to be a dog person, and still love my larger four footed friends, but a couple decades ago I swung the other way and got into cats. While they won't protect my house, they're good companion animals and much less high maintenance than dogs. It seems like I collect them. While I was married, we got up to eleven of the little critters, and I moved back to Florida after divorce with five adult cats and four newborn kittens, with no place to stay. A kind hearted friend put me up and put aside a room in his house for the felines. When I was on Holly Lisle's Forward Motion some years ago I used the name BrotherofCats, referring to all the little furry friends I shared my space with. I still use this as a branded name and twitter handle. I don't have eleven cats, or even nine. Five is now the limit. I will admit to two things I hate about cats. One, they tend to jump up in my lap when I'm trying to work, and I'm just too soft hearted to chase them away. And two, they die too damned soon. I have buried many of my little friends, but always get replacements, though they aren't truly replaceable. The way I look at it, I have room for so many cats in my house (five by my reckoning) so that is how many I give a home to. So welcome to my cat page, and meet some of my friends, past and present.
Buddy was named by my stepdaughter because he was supposed to be the of the other cats. Unfortunately, he didn't get along with them at all. He bonded with me instantly, and was by my side for fifteen years, until he contracted kidney failure that manifested as pneumonia. Still, he hung on for three months, and was always with me. We called him fat boy, because he was always overweight at sixteen pounds. Just an altogether fine cat and good companion, he passed in December of 2009 at the age of fifteen, peacefully in his sleep. He was a shelter rescue from Jasper, Alabama.
Bobby is a bobtail, hence his name. He came with the house we bought in Alabama, a little kitten who didn't care about the reaction of the cats we brought in. Bobby acts more like a dog than a cat. He gets along with all animals, and was a great friend to some very big dogs. Athletic for most of his life, at sixteen pounds he was all muscle, strong and fast. Last year he was diagnosed with kidney failure, and he has lost a lot of weight over the last year and a half, now down to just under ten pounds. Despite that he is still going strong, running and jumping and playing with the other cats. Probably my most affectionate cat ever, he loves to slide into my lap like I'm not going to notice.
Sassy was a tailless calico, rescued from the animal shelter in Tallahassee. An affectionate cat, she was also a bag of problems. She needed constant grooming due to her coat. After five years in my started to lose control of her rear legs and her bladder. I set the house up so she was isolated from some areas and she got along okay for about six months, then died in her sleep. A tragic , she still had a good life for the five years she spent with me, passing in 2010.
Beauregard, Beau for short, was my all time favorite cat. At seventeen he was my largest ever, and the smartest feline I've ever owned. And he died too soon, at the age of nine. His kidneys shut down in 2009, and I spent two months force feeding him, trying to keep him alive. Finally, it was time to let him go, and he was the only one I have ever put down. He slept with me every night, including his last night. I still miss him.
Also known as Trouble, this black cat was adopted from a local vet soon after Buddy died. A very affectionate cat who loves to spend time in my lap getting in the way of my writing, he can be holy terror to the other cats. Only Bobby will stand up to him. I don't regret getting him, but I sure wish he was a little less argumentative with the other animals. And I could wish he had a little more agility, as he can lose his balance while jumping on me, which can lead to some scratches.
Angelina is named after my mother's middle name. She came running up to me when I came outside my house, almost exactly two months after my mom passed in 2009. Angelina is a very quiet cat, and spends every night in my bedroom. She prefers being away from the other cats, which is fine with me. Now she had found out how to get up on the bathroom sink, getting all the attention she can take before I go off.
Another self rescue, Molly showed up on my porch one morning in 2010. She had a flea collar on, and both me and my neighbor put ads in the paper and on the net to see if we could find the owner. No luck, and I finally had to cut the collar off of her as it was becoming too small. I adopted her, got her fixed, and welcomed her into my home. A year later someone claimed her online. Too bad. She was mine now, and they shouldn't have waited for an entire year to claim her. She is a myrtle cat, making that little noise when excited, as well as being a calico, and though her fur is medium length, she has no trouble taking care of it herself. Not as attention seeking as the other cats, she still likes a good petting, and has recently learned to be quiet while getting her attention so as to not attract the attention of the other cats. Smart.
Castor is my newest addition, adopted from a local rescue. They were having problems placing him because he growled at strangers. I wanted a cat like Beau, and though this one isn't quite as smart, he has a very similar personality. A very mellow, calm and well behaved feline, I am so happy I picked him up a couple of years ago. He knows enough to approach me where the other cats can't interfere with his attention seeking. I believe he is about six years old, and have hopes he will live longer than Beau.