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Trekkiegirl and I are starting to work out details of the after-wedding plans, and we've decided to get cats. I suggested hitting up the shelters in the area.
Trekkiegirl, who is allergic to most cats and has grown up showing dogs, has convinced me to find a reasonably-priced breeder for hypoallergenic cats. It's not a bad idea, considering her allergies, and it'd be best for house cats to grow up together, so we'll be picking up a pair of kittens.
She has gravitated towards Devon Rexes, as they're relatively hypoallergenic. She originally wanted Sphynxes, but after a couple searches, she fell in love with these cats.
And really, who could blame her?
With the fact that both of us work, a pair of kittens would be best. We'd take time off initially to help them acclimate; my mother can also be conscriped to come catsit for a bit.
I've always wanted to get a pet, honestly, ever since we got rid of our old cat back in 1990. I didn't realize this until I was talking about cats with my family this week, actually, but she was my cat. There is, of course, a story behind it.
I was very little, and my parents used to take us to the adopt-a-pet store in the mall and pretend we were going to the zoo. I was two years old at the time, and didn't know it wasn't the zoo, and would always get very excited about getting to pet the animals.
According to my dad, one day I raced over to a cat and picked her up in precisely the way cats don't like to be held. This cat...did nothing. She just drooped over my arms, purring.
If they were ever to get a cat, my parents figured, this would be it. If she didn't mind being manhandled by small boys. So they bought her and named her Lindy. Or, as I always remember my dad referring to her, Lindy El Gato O'Shea. That was her full name.
She was a very understanding cat. Very forgiving. From the time I was two until about five, I very distinctly remember she would always play with me, and there was specifically one time I remember pulling her tail. I don't remember if it was an accident or not - I was threeish, who knows - but I remember her leaping away, glowering at me, and leaving the room. I was upset, of course, and my parents scolded me and told me that it hurt her to do that.
I immediately rushed to apologise to Lindy. She glared at me, but let me approach her, and I gave her a big hug and she purred. She had forgiven me immediately.
To this day, I don't remember what happened to her. My parents told my sister and I that they had to give her to a friend of theirs when my brother was born, and we were promised to go visit her someday, and we never did. I'm not certain if this was the truth; I was five and my sister had either just turned seven or was about to, and if Lindy had died I don't know if we would have been told the truth. I'm leaning towards it being true, though, and we just never had the time. My parents never really sheltered us from bad things; if she had died, I'm sure they would have sat us down and explained what that meant.
I'm hoping that when we get these Devon Rexes, Trekkiegirl and I can strike a deal. I hope to name one Lindy.
Trekkiegirl, who is allergic to most cats and has grown up showing dogs, has convinced me to find a reasonably-priced breeder for hypoallergenic cats. It's not a bad idea, considering her allergies, and it'd be best for house cats to grow up together, so we'll be picking up a pair of kittens.
She has gravitated towards Devon Rexes, as they're relatively hypoallergenic. She originally wanted Sphynxes, but after a couple searches, she fell in love with these cats.
And really, who could blame her?
With the fact that both of us work, a pair of kittens would be best. We'd take time off initially to help them acclimate; my mother can also be conscriped to come catsit for a bit.
I've always wanted to get a pet, honestly, ever since we got rid of our old cat back in 1990. I didn't realize this until I was talking about cats with my family this week, actually, but she was my cat. There is, of course, a story behind it.
I was very little, and my parents used to take us to the adopt-a-pet store in the mall and pretend we were going to the zoo. I was two years old at the time, and didn't know it wasn't the zoo, and would always get very excited about getting to pet the animals.
According to my dad, one day I raced over to a cat and picked her up in precisely the way cats don't like to be held. This cat...did nothing. She just drooped over my arms, purring.
If they were ever to get a cat, my parents figured, this would be it. If she didn't mind being manhandled by small boys. So they bought her and named her Lindy. Or, as I always remember my dad referring to her, Lindy El Gato O'Shea. That was her full name.
She was a very understanding cat. Very forgiving. From the time I was two until about five, I very distinctly remember she would always play with me, and there was specifically one time I remember pulling her tail. I don't remember if it was an accident or not - I was threeish, who knows - but I remember her leaping away, glowering at me, and leaving the room. I was upset, of course, and my parents scolded me and told me that it hurt her to do that.
I immediately rushed to apologise to Lindy. She glared at me, but let me approach her, and I gave her a big hug and she purred. She had forgiven me immediately.
To this day, I don't remember what happened to her. My parents told my sister and I that they had to give her to a friend of theirs when my brother was born, and we were promised to go visit her someday, and we never did. I'm not certain if this was the truth; I was five and my sister had either just turned seven or was about to, and if Lindy had died I don't know if we would have been told the truth. I'm leaning towards it being true, though, and we just never had the time. My parents never really sheltered us from bad things; if she had died, I'm sure they would have sat us down and explained what that meant.
I'm hoping that when we get these Devon Rexes, Trekkiegirl and I can strike a deal. I hope to name one Lindy.
