For my sixteenth birthday, my brother gave me a cat. Tess was white with a grey patch on her head and lucid green eyes. I took her from my house to my first apartment. It was in that same apartment that she gave birth to her babies. I did what the books said, put my own clothing on the floor for her, in the corner of my closet, dark and warm. She wouldn’t have it; she was determined to have those babies in my arms. She had those babies, each one, as I held her. It was nauseating and beautiful all at once.
A while later, I was faced with a break up and wanted to leave town, and so I left for an adventure. Leaving her was really difficult. I missed her something horrible when I was away. Being that I didn’t know how long I would stay in this new city, I went and got myself another cat. I named him Wylie. He was the opposite color of Tess; he was dark grey with a white belly.
Wylie stayed with me during my short stint in another city, sleeping curled around my neck, never leaving my side. Getting him home was not an easy thing to do. I had no money and in the end, I trusted a cross country truck driver to bring him to my home city. He arrived before me, and was taken in by my family until I arrived home.
Wylie was with me for 18 years. In that time he was my friend, my comfort, and at times, the only constant I had in my life. It was a Sunday night that he slowly died in my arms. The next morning he could not move on his own, he could not close his eyes, he was struggling to breath. With an injection at the vet, Wylie was gone, and I felt like my heart was broken in two.
With Wylie gone, there was emptiness in me, and in my house that I hated. So I did what any pet lover would do, I went to save another cat! I ended up coming home with two, but it is one in particular that I want to tell you about.
His name was Harley. When I saw him, it was love at first sight. I did not want a white cat; I did not want a grey cat. He was the perfect color of soft caramel, creamy orange, and he was beautiful! His big amber eyes looked at me, he tilted his head, he played his cards right. I am sure he knew that he had just imprinted on me, and I was just as much his as he was mine.
At home, he did not want anything to do with me. He hid under my bed, he hissed at me, and with every call, I got his name wrong! On the third day, he emerged. He walked around, I told him his new name would be Harvey, and soon, we were fast friends!
Harvey is an indoor cat, but when someone goes to the door, he runs after them, and he lifts his paw, stretching it high above his head, imploring to go out.
In the morning, when I walk into the kitchen, he races off of my bed, rips past me, jumps first onto my kitchen stool and then leaps onto the counter in front of my window. He’s a hungry guy first thing in the morning.
When I am working downstairs, he jumps on my desk, he rubs everything he can reach, knocks over anything that does not have weight to it, listens to my reprimands for making a mess and wasting my time by having to pick up everything that he has knocked over. He chews any piece of plastic that I do not have covered; he walks on my keyboard and steps in my ink pads.
Harvey is my biggest distraction. Several times a day, I am taken aback by his handsomeness, his mischievous nature, his begging eyes that plead with me to come and snuggle him. I love the downy softness of his underbelly, the rumble that begins in his tummy and up to his throat and comes out in the form of a purr. I adore his cute caramel brown nose and his fur, a softness that I have never felt on any cat I have ever known.
Thanks for stopping by, enjoy your day.