Your 16 today. While I cant say I remember the day you were born, I can say I remember the day we got you. I remember how from the beginning you were feisty, and curious.
Do you remember those first few years?
The ones where people were constantly telling me to “Be gentle” and “Play nice” with you. The ones where you laid there, flopping at just the right moment, and loving me whenever I needed? Remember those days? The ones when I hauled you into a bathroom, and attempted to “Teach you” not to do something, by spanking you? Remember how I used to flip you up, then down, then back up again, while snapping buttons, tying bows, and dressing you like a girl? No wonder you sat so still – sick from all the movement. But you fancied me some fun times. Allowing me to drag you up and down dressed in pink dresses, attempting to jam bottles and pacifiers down your throat? I think that is where you drew the line with me – nothing – absolutely nothing – could be forced into your mouth. Remember when you chewed the bottle top off?
Remember when I tried to take you sledding? What you must have been thinking. The thoughts that must have entered your mind. As I dressed you. Put you in your snow suit, and stuck a knitted cap over your ears – something you weren’t impressed with, but went along with it like you did everything else. But then, I took you outside, and mounted the sled with my awaiting friends. I whirled you around, which is when you got your first look at what was happening and what was going wrong. But it was too late, because we were flying down that hill at record speed, with you…Tomcat, in the front. Clinging to my arms like you would never believe that was happening to you.
There was also the time you ran away in your shirt while attempting a photo shoot. Thankfully, you left your pants in the yard, but you took off in your shirt. The humiliation. The laughter that your friends must have done.
We never did find that shirt. We heard from the neighbor boys that they called animal control to tell them there was an “Infested shirt” in their yard, that they came, with rubber gloves to take it away. I cant imagine you stopping them, infact, I kind picture you cheering them on as they walked away with your “Best shirt”.
You must remember the pink. The clothes. The pink clothes. The little dresses, the snaps between the legs with the tail stuffed in an odd place. Do you remember those days?
I would ask if you have any hard feelings, but something tells me you didn’t. You purred, and fell asleep on my shoulders so many times that I felt like the worlds luckiest little girls At 6 years old, I couldn’t ask for a better doll. All my friends were jealous. They didn’t have dolls that moved, and cried, and sat in high chairs WHILE eating. The tea parties you attended, decked in your pink dress and frilly bonnet.
Those, were the days.
But, as time wore on, I “out grew” my dressing you up days, after our move, the pink doll clothes and plastic furniture retired to the attic, and you were left alone to be a cat.
A few years later, Odo was introduced into your life.
The one, of course, the was your pick. After a long day on the plane, Odo finally arrived at 10 pm a cool September night. You weren’t sure what to think, at first. Another cat was invading YOUR space…and even though you had picked her out yourself, you were used to being an only kitty, not having to share your space with anyone else.
But now…you two are best buds…well…most times you are.
I wouldn’t be kidding anyone if I said that you were ALWAYS friendly towards each other, didn’t last night I catch you trying to “hit her”? With your paw in the air, and your ears folded back, you sat there, threatening to whack her.
But there are the days that I find you cleaning her ears, and see you snuggled up together on my bed.
Your clothes wearing days are mostly over, even though I occasionally stuff you into a shirt because you look so CUTE! Your aloud to be a cat, and most days you are just that…you walk around on all fours, wearing no clothes and meowing when you want something. Rather then, being forced onto two legs, stuck in a dress and slammed in a stroller as you went for a wicked ride.
But…to me, you are more than a cat.
A few weeks ago, I came home, sad, and upset. Instead of being your ornery self, you walked over and wanted me to pick you up. With your arms around my neck and your systematic purrs…it was impossible to not smile again. You understand, you know what I say, and you are always reading to hand out a hug…what is better than getting hugged by your kitty? I cant say Ive experienced much else, that can really compare to that.
I love you pumpkin. I love you SO much. I cant believe your 16. Cant believe your “So Old” already.
But you know what? I don’t think your old…and I don’t think you do either. After all, you turn down “Senior cat food” and much prefer kitten chow.
I know you wont grow up to be a panther…I know you most likely wont exceed you 15 pound maximum that you were at one time…but I do know this, that no matter how little, or big, or young, or old you are…I love you SO much…and can feel your love back – atleast, most of the time…
*Heres to 16 more years of wonderful bliss with the kitty I love to call*:
Pumpkin, Sweet Pea, Baby boy.