A few months ago we got a new kitten. ♥
You can't help but love her. The farmer we got her from clearly loves animals, and took good care of her litter and all their other animals. She eats freaking expensive food, but good nutrition is pretty important so we squeak it out of the budget somehow.
Her name is Sasha and she's hilarious; I guess she thinks she's a dog half the time, and a cougar the rest of the time. She LOVES affection, purrs if you even walk past her, begs for hugs all the time but is happy after a quick snuggle which is all I ever have time or patience for. She's devoted and loving no matter what. Loyal. Pouncing. WILDLY ENERGETIC. She climbs walls that have no curtains, people. Our couch has never looked worse but it wasn't in great shape to begin with.
The first night she was with us, she was so small and had never spent a night alone, so I put her tiny furry self on a warm cozy spot on my duvet right by my shoulder. Any time she woke up and cried, I put my hand on her and told her it was okay, and she purred immediately and went back to sleep. Attachment parenting a cat. Yes, naturally, I am intensely weird. In the morning, she forgot where her litterbox was and after about ten minutes of meowing in desperation, she peed on Brent. It was awesome.
We have this other cat. She's nine. She is fat. She is neurotic. She is weird. I love her to bits. I don't have a photo handy.
Paige (the nine year old cat) doesn't love Sasha. She doesn't HATE her, but she's not a fan. The thing she's most worried about in the WHOLE WORLD is that Sasha might eat her food. So she gorges herself trying to keep her food safe from that orange kitten, overeats, and barfs everywhere. And tries to steal Sasha's food constantly. But it's too rich for her (plus it's made for kittens) so it makes her barf more. It was a full time job keeping cat #1 out of cat #2's food.
Then, one day, Sasha had runny poop in her litterbox. The next day, it was worse. The following day? Her ass exploded all over our bathroom. A 360 degree explosion at ankle level. She was siiiiiick. She slept, explod-a-pooped, and slept some more for days.
I was frantic. We didn't have money for EXTRA vet bills, just the expected ones like vaccinations and spaying and stuff. I couldn't figure out what could be wrong, or where she would get a tummy bug. Did she get up close and intimate with a diaper? The kitchen scraps? Her own bum?
My Bible study ladies sorted it out for me: Sasha was eating Paige's food on the sly. I had seen her do it a few times but didn't think much of it. She was still eating her expensive kitten food so she should be okay, right?
WRONG. Kittens can't eat adult cat food because it has "too high an ash content." [I'm all, pardon? We put ASH in CAT FOOD?!?!?!] Apparently it gives them all manner of butt squirts. Which explained the runny cat pooplosion on Ayden's winter jacket. And some artwork. And a towel. And more of the bathroom walls.
It took several weeks of constant cat food dish shuffling to keep cat #1 and cat #2 eating out of the proper bowls and never stealing, but Sasha's butt finally recovered. My bathroom will never be the same, though.
Want to leave comments about how you hate cats and this will never be you because of all your fantastic cat loathing? Thank you buh-bye. Don't bother. I love my cats. Brent calls me the crazy cat lady and blames ME for the nail marks on the walls and the poop on the artwork but I just remind him how cats love to pee on you when you secretly hate them, and how he better fix his attitude before he gets drenched again.