There is something you have to understand about me. I preach responsibility to animals. Like, I lecture people on it. Which probably gives off a very bad vibe, but sometimes I just can't help it. I have no problem telling people that they really shouldn't get a new pet if I think they can't afford it. Because working at a vet office was awful when a sick animal came in and the people were like, "I have no money." So yeah, I preach it.
Fast forward to me getting a cat. And not getting him declawed, because I really don't like that and I was really hoping he'd want to spend some time outside. And the kitty would need to be able to climb trees and defend himself from, well, whatever decides to stalk him. As much as I liked having a cat I can say I rescued, I knew that if he went missing it was probably as a meal for a coyote. (That didn't stop me from letting him out when he wanted to go, because I really detest the cleaning of the litter box.)
Fast forward to 3 1/2 weeks ago, our little Sampson saw the bags, meaning we'd be leaving town and he'd be stuck in the house, and he high-tailed it (literally) out the garage door. I threw up my hands and said, "Let him eat mice for 4 days."
And then about a week and a half went by, and no Sampson. I asked my neighbors, but no one had seen him, so I reported him lost to the company that manages his microchip. And someone saw the lost pet bulletin with his picture and saw a picture of a found cat on Craig's List, and called us. I was convinced. This was my cat. How he got miles away, I had no idea, but that was my cat.
I finally got a hold of the woman who had the cat, and got directions to her house. I walked into her garage and was like, "Sampson!" And the cat sort of just looked at me. And I picked him up and he snuggled me, and I thought, "Hmm...I'm not sure this is Sampson." His eyes were greener than I remembered, the tip of his tail wasn't lighter than the rest of him from him sucking on it, and the patch of white fur near his crotch was, well, bigger. And his purr wasn't squeaky. I was fairly certain this wasn't Sampson. (Oh yeah, and he was intact, but I didn't notice that until too late.)
However, I wanted to be sure. I wanted to get this cat scanned for a microchip, since Sampson had one. I also was pretty sure Sampson was not coming home, and had no real objections to getting a new cat. Who looked just like the old one. Isn't that what parents do when the kids' cat disappears? So I stuffed him in a carrier and took him.
Needless to say, the cat I stuffed in my carrier was NOT Sampson. (should have checked for balls) I was conflicted on what to do. Keep him? Drop him at a shelter? Give him back to the woman who found him, who would keep him outside and allow him to continue populating the earth with too many kittens? As it turns out, the decision was made for me, since our local shelter went no-kill and they had no room for this little black cat. I couldn't turn my back on the blue ribbon on the back of my van that says "Please Spay and Neuter". So I did the next most logical thing...I took him to my vet.
Once they realized what I wasn't asking them to take this cat permanently, but simply take him and vet him (with me paying the bill), they stopped laughing at me and were more than happy to take him off my hands for a couple of days. I just wanted them to neuter him, get him up to date to on his shots, and test him for feline leukemia. (negative) They laughed some more, and then took him to the back.
48 hours later, I went to pick up the new cat. I had decided I was stuck with him, so might as well make the best of it. (and then I saw my vet bill, ahh!)
Three hours later, a woman from a couple blocks away called, "I think I have your cat."
You gotta be shitting me.
Sampson apparently either forgot how to get home or decided this lady's chair on her back porch was much more comfortable and less stressful than my house with 2 little kids and a puppy who stalked him constantly.
I now have two cats.
I don't want two cats.
I am already sick of cleaning out the litterbox every day, and it has only been 3 days.
My desire to not be a gigantic hypocrite got me a second cat. And so I have decided to do an act of charity for the wonderful people of the Region.
Anyone want a cat? For free??
He is very sweet, very affectionate, he just wants love and attention. And perhaps a little playtime. He is probably a little less than a year old. He weighed 7lbs 13 oz when he spent some time with my friends at the vet. He is vocal when he is hungry or would like some petting. Otherwise he isn't a constant meow-er.
He definitely needs more individual attention than I think my house can give him. I've decided to call him Felix, because he deserves a name, and also because it means "lucky" in French. Or so says google. And this is one damn lucky cat to have been taken in by me.
This is the only picture I have, which isn't of Felix, it is of Sampson. (I can't get him to hold still long enough to get a good picture. I will keep trying though.) But he looks a lot like Sampson. But with greener eyes. And honestly, (don't tell Sampson I said this) he is a little cuter. I also have never seen the expression on his face of "I will kill you in your sleep." Like Sampson is wearing in this picture.
Seriously...if you want him, and can provide a good home for him, e-mail me! Felix does have all 4 sets of claws, and his microchip is all ready to be registered. Free to good home!!