MY FIRST CAT- 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'.