Adventures In Cat Step-Parenting

When I was around four, a stray cat adopted our family, and "Kitty" is what I named her. (Real shocking I wasn't accepted into my elementary school's Gifted & Talented Program for creative kids, huh?)

Anyway, with the exception of one picture capturing her momentary tolerance of me, for the better part of the next two decades, Kitty would hiss at everyone but my father, her source for rations, whenever they came near.

She was not friendly nor was she nice. (I pictured her when reading about Buttercup in Hunger Games). And so I grew up never really trusting cats to be anything other than secretly or not so secretly full of hate towards me.

But you see, Shawn IS a cat person and has two of them here in Denver. She adopted Sgt. Pepper (who I always think is a boy but is actually, allegedly, a girl) in 2007 before she moved to Denver. Then when she got up here, she adopted another cat named Stimpy (but who The BFF and I refer to as Mrs. Beatrice because he is the least manly cat ever).

Don't let this picture fool you, they are not Siamese twins. 

Pepper playing it cool.

Stimpy knows how photogenic he is.

But the real bane of my existence is the water situation. Pepper's favorite game is what I like to call "birdbath." She bats the shared bowl back and forth, splashing the water all over the ground. She is capable of drinking normally from it considering she will when I'm watching so I KNOW she is just does it to be a brat on purpose!

The evidence!!!

The result of this is no water left in the bowl for Mrs. B Stimpy. In order to ward off dehydration, he then goes and compromises every single water glass left around the apartment. By compromise, I mean he delicately dips his front paw in the water and licks it. It's kind of adorable until you realize you will have to get yet another clean glass unless you want cat backwash. Tasty!

Anyway, the pinnacle of hatred was reached today as it was their annual vet visit. Shawn had warned me it would be a little complicated to wrangle both into one cage, and she was right. I have the scratches to prove it.

Hopefully our "relationship" will be able to be repaired after all of the trauma. Or not. Either way.