Alright, so I'm a cat person through and through - I've had cats since I was little, mainly due to living in an apartment my whole life where dogs aren't permitted (nor cats, but since we've always maintained our cats litter boxes and such, they never knew because they could never smell them, see them, or hear them).
When I bought my house, I had 2 cats: Baxter and Scooter.
Baxter would walk me to the front door when I left for work, and always met me at the door when I came home from work (or anytime I left and came back). He knew when it was time for bed, and would meet me upstair next to my bed and waited patiently until I got all situated. He'd then crawl under the blanket, turn around, and poke his head out, and slept next to me all night. This started around 2001, about a year after my brother brought him home. In October of 2010, he didn't welcome me home one day - turns out when my mom came over (I was running late, so I asked her to stop by on her way to work to feed them, since she worked 1000 feet down the road from my house). Well, he had developed crystals in his bladder (for the 2nd time, the first time was in 2003, and he had surgery to remove them and such). This time, though, the surgery was $1,000, and my mom figured that I wouldn't pay that much for a cat that was almost 11 years old (I would've), so when I heard the news, I was incredibly pissed, and heartbroken. I lost my little buddy.
He would also come whenever you yelled for him, too. You could call out for any other cat, but he wouldn't show up until you called his name.
Scooter was a rescue from when I lived in Virginia. He looked very similar to Baxy Boy, except his muzzle looked like a nut sack, and he was a bit doofy. He had the longest hind feet/legs, and resembled a rabbit. He couldn't jump very well, and he was afraid of everyone except me. He'd start to come around if you became a regular at my house, but he'd just make an appearance. After Baxter passed away, he picked up his go to bed habit.
One day, I was doing calculus homework when I went back for my second degree. I had just solved a difficult homework problem (checked the answer online since the teacher only assigned even numbers), and I had gotten it right. I said "fuck yeah!" and looked at Scooter (who was comfortably laying half on my calc book) and said "gimme a hi-five". Sure as shit, he stood up on his hind legs, extended one paw, tapped my hand, and sat back down.
From that point forward, he gave me hi-fives on command. He also let me put a rock band bandana on him, and he totally rocked that for 2 days as a cape.
One day, one of my coworkers stopped by for a bit, and Scooter didn't run and hide. In fact, he just laid on the ground, purring, and meow'd his normal happy meow. I thought it was a bit odd he didn't scoot on out of the room, as my coworker never stopped by before. I figured maybe he just broke out of his scaredy cat ways, and after a bit, he ended up on his usual spot on the couch (the head rest above my seat).
Later that night, I saw him walk 3 steps, then just stop, and lay down. I looked at him and asked him if he was okay, and he just looked at me. A little worried, I picked him up, put him on all 4's and called for him to come over to me. Same thing. 3 steps, then laying down. I brought him to the emergency vet, and they found a mass in belly. I didn't have the money for any kind of cancer treatment, but they took an xray and there was a tumor (pretty big, too, the size of a golf ball, and the fact he was doing what he was doing pretty much said he's had it for a while). He was put down that night. I was a coward and didn't stay, which I really regret. I just hope he had a happy life, even though he was afraid of most people. It's been 3 and a half years, and I still miss that lil fucker.
Baxter and Scooter got along pretty good, and would cause some mischeif together, but Baxter was the dominant one, and Scooter would run and hiss when Baxter played too rough.
Now, I said I was a cat person, and I get ragged on all the time for how many cats I have lol. Don't care, though, as they're all fucking awesome.
When I first bought my house (remember, I had Baxter and Scooter), my gf at the time decided to bring in 2 stray cats (which I named Mr. Waffles, and the one now known as Princess). I didn't want them, but whatever. She was supposed to get them fixed and such, and she even claimed she did at one point. She didn't. I found out a few months after we split (I kept the cats as she was kind of a cunt to them, and she owed me a fair amount of money, so I held them hostage).
Well, they weren't fixed. I was already finding homes for the kittens, unsure of how many would be in the litter, as I didn't want any more cats - 4 was enough. As soon as I found out Princess was knocked up, Mr. Waffles had his batter pipes snipped.
Princess gave birth to 2 kittens on my moms birthday. Once they were born, I knew they were both female due to their colors (males can only have 2 colors while females can have 3, except for the ones with mutated genes). One was a long hair tortoise shell, and the other a short hair tortoise shell.
The long haired beauty is Caspian:
Caspian is a diva. Every morning when I do my morning thing, she hops in the sink and checks herself out in the mirror. When she's chilling, she's never less than an arms reach away from me. She'll meow any time you talk to her, so she's the chatter box out of the gang. Her nicknames are Skunk Tail, Bumper Car (her tail is pretty much straight up, then a 90 degree bend towards her head when she's walking, and she knocks so much shit over), Cat Face, and Mewbacca. You can only pet her from behind her head, and only her head (well, anyone who isn't me), and you won't be able to pick her up (again, because you're not me).
Every day when I get home from work, she runs in front of me and plays dead (well, she meows over and over) until I pet her belly. She's also the strongest cat out of the group, but rarely uses her dominance.
The short haired lady, I couldn't think of a name. A few weeks later when she was able to walk around, she fell asleep inside of a can of Pringles, so... that's her name.
Pringles and Scooter were really close. Where one was, the other was right there. Pringles frightens incredibly easily, and stays hidden when people she doesn't know are over. She apparently hisses at my fiance, which I find funny. She's very sweet, but won't let you pick her up (sometimes she'll let me, but most times she ends up perched on my shoulder). She'll take advantage of your pets when she approves of you, though.
When Scooter left, she kept to herself and would only come around me if the other cats weren't there. Once in a while she'd cuddle with Mr. Waffles. She's now becoming cuddle buddies with Mr. Pancake, but it's rare to see them both laying together - usually she's curled up on the head/backrest of the couch near me, or on the old cushion that her and Scooter used to sleep on.
Family Picture:
Princess is so loving and affectionate to people. She hates cats. She hisses, swats, and runs from all of them. Once in a while you'll catch her cuddling with one of them, but she mainly just keeps a low profile and hangs with the humans.
Mr. Waffles, on the other hand...
He's a goofball, and troublemaker. He learned from Baxter, that's for sure. Every day when I get home from work, he makes sure he gets the attention first by standing up, arms stretched up to my waist, until I pick him up. He's a daddies boy. I can call his name every time and he'll come a running. He usually sleeps behind my legs at night, but once in a while he'll sleep up by my chest.
He used to really harass Princess, but he's 8 years old now, so he's calming down a bit.
So I was down to 4 cats, until my cousin sends me a picture of her newborn kittens - 16 in the bunch. She asked me if I wanted any, and I said "hell no, all of them, but NO". So she keeps bugging me, and I said "sure, the orange one", knowing she wanted to keep him. She goes "no! I'm keeping him", "too bad, then, sorry!"
A few hours later, she goes "Okay, you can have him", so I felt obligated to take him at that point (plus, I kind of wanted him after seeing some pics).
I dubbed thee, Mr. Pancake.
Mr. Pancake is wonderful. He plays fetch (Baxter used to as well, but not as much or as good as Mr. Pancake - like, just like a dog will), he's affectionate, he's playful (a given since he's a kitten... well, not so much anymore, but still young enough and full of energy), and he's a doofus. He'll fall asleep standing up, only to wake up as he's falling. He'll "attack" your finger, then fall asleep while chomping on it. He'll curl right up against your face and lick your cheek while he's sleeping.
Anyway, cats are awesome. Yes, I have the Crazy Cat Lady DLC of life lol, but I love them.
The only place that you'd be able to smell any foul cat smell would be by the litter boxes, but they're cleaned daily, one of those automatic air freshener spray things are on a shelf above the boxes, and the floors are cleaned and sanitized every weekend. Even on the hottest of days with the windows closed (after my house was broken into, the windows are closed and locked during the day), it's barely noticeable.
Mr. Pickles again !
