Cat Stories-The Cat That Started it All

This is the cat that started it all.  I don't know what her name was, or anything about her.  If I remember correctly, I was about 4-5 at the time, and had already been in several foster homes.  This picture has a note on the back that it was taken at a San Joaquin County facility. I remember this cat.  I remember really liking her, (she slept on my bed for a while, and that was nice because there was competition with the other kids) and then having her taken away because she supposedly had fleas.  I was heartbroken at the time.  Funny, the things you remember.  Anyway, she was the cat that started my lifelong love affair with cats and with rescuing cats.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Cat Story- Pistachio


Being that this is my first post, my first entry should probably be about the first cat I ever adopted.

I don't remember where I found Pistachio. I do know that I was about seven at the time, and that he was never allowed in the house because I am actually very allergic to cats among other things. At the time, my pediatrician had just suggested to my parents that I have my bedroom sealed off from the rest of the house because of that.

29 years later, I'm still head-over-heels about cats.

But anyways- Pistachio was a black kitten with a white mustache. I'd just read a book about some pirate cat that had rings in his ears named Pistachio, so I thought that was a great name. I only played with him outside. My mother did not like the name Pistachio, and insisted he be called some boring name I don't even remember.

I was on a weird bender of cutting off all my Barbie's hair (probably why years later I ended up going to cosmetology school and getting my license), and I got the great idea to give Pistachio's whiskers a haircut. I felt bad afterwards when I learned that cutting a cat's whiskers affects their equilibrium and puts them at a disadvantage navigating at night. I've never cut a pussers whiskers since!

About a year later, my dad woke me up one morning to tell me Pistachio had been hit by a car. I didn't believe him, and got him mad to the point where he took me to see the body. I don't think he was ever buried, which I find weird now.

I remember I cried a lot, and eventually my parents got mad and ordered me to stop, because it 'was just a cat'.

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