Monday, April 25, 2011

Kitteh Commiteh

If you've clicked on the LOL Cats link in my sidebar you've seen one of these guys before.

I've been meaning to do an odd post about the cat thing, ebcause, I'm sure you've noticed, I've got a few, and I tend to use cat names as reference points for some of the people in my life. There's a reason for this. I'm obsessed. Only kidding.

When I was a little girl I was allergic to cats. I don't know if it was my asthma, or a paranoia on my parent's part or what, but I didn't get my first pet cat until I was about eight years old. Now, my grandmother had a couple of cats and they never seemed to bother me, so it might just be that my mom didn't think I needed a pet. I have no idea. (My grandma;s cats, by the way, were Juliet whome we called Juliegg because my brother had a speech impediment; and Fluffy, who had the most ironic name on the planet, because she died when she crawled into the dryer when my grandma wasn't looking.)

So I got my first cat when I was eight. His name was Frisky and he had a grey tip on his tail, otherwise he was white all over. I loved him. Several cats followed after that, and I don't need to tell you about them. The point is, since that time, I have almost always had a pet cat. The exception to this was when I was with BBD, who hates cats. (I should have known then there was something wrong with him.)

When I moved in with Kitten she had two adorable cats: Samson and Delyla. They were both rescues. Two summers ago, when I was a DJ at a local club Samason snuck out as I snuck in at whatever godawful hour of the morning I got off.I was heartbroken. Delyla never really liked me. In fact, for the first six months I lived with Kitten she peed on everything that had my scent on it. We went through so many pillows that we almost decided to take her to the vet to see what was wrong with her. Turns out once she realized I wasn't going anywhere, she knocked it off. She's still Kitten's cat, through and through. She actually acts more like a dog. She is the princess of the house, I think it is a result of her being a totally manky stray cat.

Actually, all of our cats seem to carry their dominant manky trait into some sort of weird neurosis now.

Voodoo, my little black cat, was a dumpster cat. Literally. She showed up on our porch about two years ago and she was all tiny and pathetic and we wouldn't let her in for fear of Delyla freaking out so she slept on our recycling dumpster. She looked lonely and sad all the time. We finally let her in during a terrible october rainstorm. She was squalling on the porch and we could hear her above the thunder. I went to the door to look at her, and when she saw Kitten behind me she lifted her paw and sneezed very theatrically. In she came. She went through (I am so not joking) nearly a solid year of being in heat before she calmed down enough for us to get her into the vet. She literally would go right back into heat the moment we picked up the phone to make an appointment. Now she mopes a lot, wants to be groomed, and spends her time wanting cuddles. But not too many.

We decided we didn't need more than two cats.

Then Dad called because a stray kitten had shown up on his porch. Would we take it? No, we said. We don't need another cat. Would we at least try to find her a home? Sure, we could do that. Dad had two big dogs at the time. No house for a kitten. We carried her home, bathed her (she had SO MANY FLEAS)and combed her. Then we realized she was deformed in her back leg. And she walked on her knuckles. This little cat, whom we had resolved to call Kitty so we wouldn't get attached, whispered in Kitten's ear that her name was Purrsephanie (I swear, that's what Kitten said) and we realized we wouldn't give her up to someone we couldn't be sure would take care of her when her leg got really bad. Purrsephanie (Squirt, we call her) is a habitual bather. Not just herself, but any of our other cats, or us, if she sees fit.


Oscelot moved in, and by that time we had been feeding the strays that used to live at our neighbors and now lived on our porch for some time. Her favorite stray, Precious (not our name) got pregnant and lost all of her kittens. So we thought. Then one day Kitten was on the front porch and Precious came up to her with a little black kitten in her mouth. She was clearly not feeding it, it needed help. We brought it in, fed it, wiped it's bottom and put it back out. Only Oscelot kept sneaking it in. Then Kitten stopped fighting her when she wanted to let it play inside. Then she stopped fighting her when she wanted to keep it for good. It's our only boy. His name is Munkostrap. We call him bubba or little man most of the time, because Munkostrap is a mouthful, and he really doesn't know the difference. All Bubba wants is to be held. I would chalk that up to either being held too much as a baby, or, if you want to give him feelings, he knows that his mother didn't take care of him, and now he wants to be babied.

Now, at this point we had four cats, which we all agreed was probably too many. We keep the litter scooped (constantly, I swear, they poop for fun!) and we vaccuum all the time, and we mop all the itme, and really, if you didn't see them, most our friends swear you wouldn't know we have pets.

So one night Kitten was on Craigslist, the bane of all who wish to remain sane and junk-free, and she saw a woman post how she was getting her apartment floors redone and she couldn't afford to kennel her kitten for the week. Would someone watch her for free. I get the text from Kitten that we are going to pick up a baby cat and sit it for a week.

I'm sure you aren't suprised, we got stuck with her. The mom wouldn't take her back. She was so tiny. I got attached. She's a littlee grey ball of fluff, with tiny white mittens and bloomers, and she is so cute. Also, tiny. She still had her milk teeth when we got her. Her name is Evelyn, and I'm glad we kept her. She was so sick the first month we had her, we honestly worried about her health. Now she is fat and happy, and like Bubba, needs to be cuddlesd constantly. In fact, most of the spelling errors on this blog are a result of her being in my lap, and me being unwilling to retype when she jumps in my way. She is also a neurotic nurser. She actually has a blanket she is allowed to nurse on, in our attempt to keep her from nursing everything and evryone else. It seems to be working.

Now, this might only qualify us for being cat ladies, not a Kitteh Commiteh, if it weren't for the fact that we have a cat fixation in our personalities. I started calling Kitten my tiger affectionately, and somehow, it stuck, and our friends refer to her as a tiger as well.

Soemhow along the line, our friends assigned me the title Panther, although the only explanation I can come up for this is that I wear a lot of black. I'm still working that out. Kitten says its because I'm sleek. I don't see how since my hair is more like a guinea pig's than anything else.

So one night we were joking iwth our friend Bobcat about being a cougar, but since she's a lesbian there has to be a different term for it. That's how she got the name bobcat. Also, it seems to suit her.

When we continued to hang out, we began a Kitteh Committeh joke, because we all read the LOL Cats page for fun.

Then she introduced us to Oscelot, who got her name from her love of water, and because she's adorable and tiny, just like an Oscelot should be.

The commiteh expanded.

Then we extended membership to our dear friend Earth Girl, who married Kitten and I, and decided to call her the Lion. (Lioness, I suppose, but who's keeping track?) I thought this was absolutely appropriate because when I met her she had beautiful golden hair that trailed down to her waist. She gave it to Locks of Love, which I think is admirable. I still see her with long hair, even if it is short now.

When Oscelot's birthday came around, we were introduced to Black Magic, who became part of our Sunday game night and we christened her Cheetah, although this is another one that goes to personality, seeing as how she can't walk very well right now.

Bobcat is getting married, her partner is call Teh Lynx. So we have ourselves quite a substantial group of people described by their cat personalities.

That my friends, is the story of the Kitteh Committeh.

I could talk about my cats all day, and my friends longer, but thatm ight bore you.

Now you know, when the Committeh has a meeting, what exactly I'm talking about.

Kitteh love to you all,

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