I have always been a cat person, starting from my first cat named Éclair (Lightning) when I was 6 years old. I remember being so excited when she came meowing along my sister and I who were playing outside at our countryhouse in Vermont. We became aquainted with the little bugger, and she was the most adorable thing to have entered my life thus far. She mysteriously disappeared one afternoon in Vermont a few months (or was it weeks?) after having adopted her, and I was heartbroken.
But along came Mysty, who almost spent a whole year with us before she tragically lost her life thanks to a car one Friday night in April 1997, also in Vermont. I was so devastated because I was even closer with her than with Éclair. And she used to sleep in the bathroom sink! While Mysty was still alive, a male adopted us in Vermont. We named him Boris. He was very friendly with Mysty (and perhaps the source of her unborn kittens?). He also disappeared after a few months. By this point, I really began to dislike having these furry creatures in my life for a short amount of time, and I disliked them going to Vermont.
And yet a few months later, in late 1997, another furry feline came into my life. Her name was something along the lines of Sparks-Coconut-Mewtwo-Mew-Idiot-Meow. She was an interesting cat to say the least, due to the fact that she wasn’t very intelligent. 
She lived with us for a few years, until my mother had to give her up for adoption for I don’t remember what reason. I had another bout with grief over a lost pet.
In 2002, my mother adopted my friend’s cat, KC, renamed Co
cotte. She lived 8 years with us, and we unfortunately had to put her down in September 2010 due to her having an unoperable stomach tumor. We were both very sad. Up until now, she’s the cat who had been in my life the longest. Although she was traumatised by my teenage craziness, she was quite a friendly and affectionate cat.
Meanwhile, at my father’s house, we had our Kytcia (Киця in Ukrainian, meaning “kitten”) who lived with us for 6 years. He was a wonderful cat, and a great distraction for me while my parents were going through separat
ion matters. Another cat, who we named Thundercloud, adopted our Vermont home like our good ol’ friend Boris in the 90′s. Both him and Kytcia were cat friends. But Kytcia, like almost all the others, disappeared in Vermont in summer 2005. Not only were my father and I devasted, but so was my grandmother, because back here in the city, he lived with her before leaving to Vermont on the week-ends with my father. Thundercloud also disappeared a few months later.
(How many cats has that been now? 7 in a span of 9 years!)
And then Sherra (Kära in Swedish), an abused cat adopted from the SPCA joined us and became my step-mother’s cat. And then Mytcia (Миця in Ukrainian) joined us and became my grandmother’s/father’s new cat. And he is huge. Ever held an 18 pound cat? A few years ago the vet told my father to be careful because he’s morbidly obese and can develop diabetes (which, I know it sucks, but I find it pretty funny for a cat). The reason for him having an excessive amount of lard? My grandmother. You know how бабушка‘s are: they treat animals the same way they treat humans when it comes to food. “Eat, eat!”. Kytcia had the same obesity problem. Luckily though, both are still with us, 7 years later (and Mytcia goes to Vermont every week-end!).
Kära, curled up in her Mytcia sunbathing.
usual spot.
In 2008, my mother decided to adopt a new kitty to join Cocotte. We named her Pinouche. Cocotte wasn’t happy at all! Pinouche is still alive, and has been joined by two other female felines. Pinouche will always be my kitty.
And so will Max, my 9 year old friend who I adopted last April (2011) while living in my first appartment. He’s by far the cuddliest, most affectionate, biggest baby I’ve ever had. For an adult cat, he sure got used to me pretty fast. And he sure cries a lot when he’s walking down the hallways at night (“Mommy! Mommy!” “Max…SHHHHHHHH!”). This cat follows me everywhere, always sleeps next to me, sleeps on me, always wants some attention….it’s like being a parent. He’s the first long haired cat I’ve ever had (Maine Coon), and he’s so adorable and so annoying at the same time.
(Notice how the specimen is always on my bed. Unless I’m not home for a few days, in which case he ventures into the Unknown known as “downstairs”, one will most probably always find the specimen curled up near my pillows, or on occasion, at the foot of my bed.)
This is not a post to commemorate my long lost Felis catus, but to simply write about my pets, past and current. And I mean, holy crap, I’ve had so many cats in my 21 years (almost 22!), it’s abnormal that Mytcia still hasn’t died in Vermont (knock on wood that he won’t!….fat, spoiled, mama’s boy). Truth be told, I wanted to show off my pictures of my cats over the years, and I also read a cat inspired blog this week that gave me a chuckle. I don’t know what the psychological effects are of having and losing so many companions (they mustn’t be too good when you’re a kid). But hey, I got used to it pretty fast!
As you all can tell, I’m a pretty cheesy animal loving person (with pet allergies!). Not only am I a cat person deep down, but I have also become a rat person. Yes, the Rattus. They are cute, they are small, they are cuddly, they recognize their owner, they’re playful, and they’re intelligent. And they won’t throw up a hairball all over your bed, because they can’t vomit!
I got my first rat Guimauve in March 2011, after having spared his life to my roommate’s snake. Befriending a rat takes time, but when he was finally recognizing me (and my roommates) and becoming comfortable with us, it was such a heart melting moment.
About two months later, I started noticing red, bloody spots
on his body. After taking him to the vet and confirming that it wasn’t mites, my next guess was that he was mutilating himself due to loneliness. And of course, rats live in colonies, so I bought him a companion who I named Ashen:
Turns out I was right because the red bloody spots started disappearing, and life starting coming into their super duper 150$ rat cage. And they started bonding. And they were happy. And so was I.
But rats aren’t for everyone. I didn’t think I was a rodent person until I had my first one, and now I wish they lived longer than 2 years. (You’d think that after having so many pets in my life, losing rats wouldn’t be so bad. But I’m dreading the moment when Guimauve will breathe his last breath). Rats are unfortunately more prone to respiratory infections, and that’s what my little Guimauve is suffering from at the moment. Ashen, on the other hand, is a fat, hyperactive rat who likes to boss his little sick buddy around, but cuddle with him at night.
***UPDATE: As of today, March 19, 2012, my little albino companion has left this world for another one. He, like many other rats, suffered from mycoplasma, and his condition just kept on getting worse. So I took him to the vets, and I watched him breathe his last little breath, and I cried and cried. He was such a lovely, friendly, extremely cuddly and cute companion. If you are as attached to animals as I am…be prepared to go through this with your rats sooner than you might expect.
You also have to be willing to clean their cage once a week, give them a bath once in a while (and their nails hurt!), regularly interact with them (which is hard if you’re allergic to them….I actually am!), cut up some fresh fruit and veggies every day, give them the right brand of rat food that isn’t too fatty, doesn’t have too much protein, too many nuts…It’s quite the responsibility! But in the end, rats seem much more appreciative of their human companions than cats.
When I moved back in with my father, they, along with Max, came back with me and joined the two cats already present. It was WWIII for the cats. And this is where my blog title will finally be explained:
Max is a scaredy cat when it comes to my rats. He’ll eye them when they’re running around the bathroom while I’m cleaning the cage, or when they’re making lots of noise in their cage, but as soon as one of them approaches him, he runs. Sherra is also scared of them (she’s scared of any other animal that invades her territory and isn’t afraid to show it). But Mytcia….he’s the evil one I have to watch out for. He’s used to catching mice and little critters in Vermont. And the way he looked at my rats the first time he saw them….
I saw the desire for a tasty meal in his eyes. My rats live in my room now, and I hear the cats coming in when they feel like seeing me (this basically applies to Mytcia, seeing as Max is always in here). Rodents and felines can get along if you’re smart and don’t let either run around where the other is loose. And most of the time, cats are too into themselves to even care about critters inferior to them.
Wow, what a way to spam people with my pet photos!
