Well, we call it a birthday but it's actually the day my awesome, amazing cat came to live with us.
So here's the story:
We had another cat named Endora who truly lived up to her name. Red headed and evil (I'd even say witchlike), he'd hide under couches and on stairs and mercilessly slice at unsuspecting passersby with her razor claws. She destroyed my furniture, she alienated my friends, she hissed at us even when we were feeding or petting her and was generally the most horrible, unloveable, frightening, awful cat ever. We put up with it for 9 years until she had some kidney thing and thankfully dropped dead. I shed a tear but it wasn't sad... it was more like I'd dropped a plate and it shattered all over the floor. I'd miss the plate but oh well. I swore to never own a cat again.
Endora had been gone a few weeks and my neighbour Tina was moving. She told me she was taking her cat to the shelter. He was full grown and I knew that if she took him there he'd never leave. I told her I'd take him for a couple of weeks and bring him to the shelter myself if he was even a fraction like Endora. That was 12 years ago.
She'd had him declawed but still let him outside. We were against both things so we thought we'd try making him an indoor cat since the claw thing was impossible to fix. Yeah, that didn't last long. He pissed on everything in anger and rocketed out between our legs every time we opened up the door. Chasing him around the neighbourhood was too much trouble. So we deal with a clawless outdoor cat. I worry about him everytime he goes out but he's so much happier. He even still brings home all kinds of neighbourhood vermin and birds so he's not completely crippled.
Over the years we've had some hilarious stories with him. Like the time he followed Audrey into her school and disrupted the afternoon as they chased him around trying to catch him. How many times do you get a call from the school principal asking you to please come and pick up your cat?
Then there was the time he hopped up onto the couch to meet my new baby niece and when he hopped down again the leather couch was crawling with worms. There wasn't enough Purell in my house for her mum to clean her up and I was never more humiliated in my life.
So anyway, he's the best cat ever. Loving, adorable, noisy (he "talks" to us and purrs loudly just for the offense of looking in his direction) and amazing. I'd like to wish him the best adoption day ever and now I'm off to bake another cat shaped cake at the request of the kids. I barely need an excuse, do I?
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