Crazy, population: Me, My Husband, and FOUR CATS.
2003-07-17
4:22 p.m.

I think I might be insane. Why do I think I might be insane? I mean, besides the usual suspects? I'm considering adopting some more cats. Two, to be precise. Two MORE. Equals 4 cats. This means I will move out of Sane and into Crazy, population: Me, My Husband, and FOUR CATS. Seriously, I think I have problems.

But: My cat Moo died. He was a magical kitty. He had the expressive and wizened face one might expect to see on, say, the man one would find on top of the mountain that you climb to find out the meaning of life. He was That Kind of Cat. He spooned with me at night, he had a British accent (okay, I already live in Crazy), and for some reason he loved rubbing his head all over my husband's feet. Especially right after my husband got out of the shower. He was awesome.

After Moo left us, we were left with just one, the incredible and hilarious Molly. Molly is, how shall I say? Special. She's terrified of everything. Like, for example, the other day she worked up the nerve to come within 3 feet of the watering can. This took about 40 minutes. It came from the place known as OUTSIDE. We do not speak of outside. I think she pictures it like the maps that depicted the ends of the earth, where you could get sucked over the side and be stuck with the swimming over and under over and under dragon snakes and their old old old school tails. Or maybe like Tijuana. But, honestly, I have no idea what she thinks, just that she hides under the bed to an extent that people always ask if she was abused as a kitten. Er, no, she's always lived with us. She's just weird. Anyway.

(I'm insane.)

So. Molly. Special.

So she was really lonely. To pull out some Boston perspective, I would even go so far as to say that she was wicked lonely. She cried every day when we got home and followed us everywhere. She was bored. So, we got another cat. I think we got the opposite of Moo on purpose. He was between 17 and 22 pounds, so we got a Special Needs kitty, who'd been neglected and weighed in at about 4 and a half pounds. She needed fattening up. She purred a lot. We brought her home. Where she proceeded to terrorize Molly. We kept them separated at first, and then introduced them, and then separated them again. Molly threw up a lot. It was no pretty. She started looking really dull and frazzled from the stress. This went on for about 3 months. We tearfully found a new home for the little one. Sob. I miss her.

Molly recovered. She reclaimed the house and was happy for about 3 days. Then she started her crying thing again, and we decided we'd try again. We adopted another cat, our little Chewy, and it went well. They're not in love like she and Moo were, but they keep each other busy and entertained. Chewy just mostly wants us to fuck off and feed him, and for the most part we oblige. Sometimes we hug him. He tolerates it.

Anyway. So the Moo is gone. The magical kitty happy land is gone. The Pax Moomana, if you will. If you won't I won't hold it against you. (What?) still want a lap cat. And there's this awesome, massive cat that I want to meet, and the catch is that he lives with his sister, and they've never been apart. I can't split them up. But can I have 4 cats? I think it would mean that I'm crazy, but I think I actually am crazy so maybe this would just be proof? I have no idea. I'm babbling. I meet them tomorrow. Eee. Four kitty monsters fluffing around would make me very, very happy. I have a big happy kitty home with lots of string and laps. I hope they want to come live with us. I hope they don't terrorize Molly. Okay then.