I have a coffee cup. It's green and a little large. It's my favorite cup. It was a gift. It has paw prints on the inside...and on the outside it says: Some of the best conversations I have are with my cat.
It's my favorite cup because the words are so true. Well, that and it holds more coffee than the average cup.
Spaz was originally a birthday gift for The Douche. A tiny feral kitten covered in flees when we got her. A black furry ball of terror, she was. I had to hand tame her. She was from a long line of feral farm cats and her natural instinct was to run away. I worked with her for months before she settled into being a house kitten.
When she first came to us, I had no choice but to bathe her in our kitchen sink with Dawn every other day because she had flees. She was too young for the drops. And boy did she hate that. She was good at throwing the kitty scowl face at me, in case I didn't know, cats don't like to be bathed in kitchen sinks.
Spaz got her name because of her odd behavior. She would tear ass around the house, going up and around the top of the couch, bounding off walls. We called it The Kitty 500. She once got a hold of a snake skin my daughter got from the aquarium. She had that thing under our couch and actually growled at anyone who dared take her “kill”.
One thing that sets Spaz apart from most other cats I've seen is her talkativeness. She will follow me around the house, talking up a storm. I answer her back. How could I not? She “speaks” with different tones and inflections. She is so good at it, I can usually understand what she has to say.
In the morning when I am tooling around my bedroom getting ready for work, she has a lot to say. Spaz will walk the edge of the bed, following me as I move around the room, talking, talking, talking. In the mornings I swear she is saying “mom”. Usually she wants her kitty treats. And when she is done, she is back on the bed until I stand still to listen to her. She will walk her front paws up my stomach and reach for me. I have to bend down so we can butt heads. This is her way of saying thank you.
When I settle in bed for the evening, we have some quality time together. She will climb in my lap and purr and rub her face on mine. This is “I missed you. I thought you'd never get home.”
If I am up late on the computer, she has no qualms about bithcin' at me. She will stand next to my chair, and meow sweetly, putting her paw on my leg to ensure she has my attention. This is “Mom, it's past our bedtime. I'm tired. Come on.”
When we sleep, she has to be touching me, somehow. If she's not on top of me, she is curled in behind my knees. She is all about a nap. When I want to lay down during the day, she thinks it's great. And the best part is she snores. Loudly! It's hilarious.
God forbid, if she runs out of food before I get up. She feels like it's her duty to wake me so that I can fill her bowl. This usually happens around the 4 am hour. And she won't take no for an answer. I can toss her off my bed 10 times and she comes right back. Putting her paw on my face. Sniffing my nose. Climbing on my head.
When I am sick, or depressed, she is my shadow. Never leaving me for more than a few minutes. Curled up with me. Talking me off the ledge. Giving me little kitty kisses. Somehow I know this cat loves me. She and I can take on the world together. Or... at least talk about doing it.