Varmie

I've had a very interesting relationship with Ron's cat.  Well, my cat. 

She lives with both of us. 

Back in September, Ron found a small brown kitten in the bushes.  He was immediately drawn to her.  When I fed her, she meowed while eating.  Ron told me "I want to pet it". 

I knew we would be adopting her, but I didn't want another cat.  I had promised Bubba, after Frosty died, I would not get another cat unless he brought it home. 

That's how I got Frosty, Bubba brought him home to live with us.  Frosty was a wonderful, loving cat, but very old.  I was happy to get 4 and a half years with him. 

When Frosty died, I entered a month-long depression.  I wasn't ready to have my "heart broke". 

Bubba had also proven he didn't like kittens.  He was friendly enough when we were around, but they never stayed.  One small kitten urinated in Ron's pants, as he used the toilet, then climbed into bed with me and peed on my covers.  We were pretty unhappy. 

I saw kittens as small, annoying pests that peed where they shouldn't.  However, Ron had fallen in love. 

I watched Bubba closely, and he seemed OK with her.  After about a week we brought her in the house.  I put a litter box in every room (except the bathroom and laundry room - 2 bedrooms, study, and front room).  One of my readers deried me, but "The Varmit" as we'd nicknamed her, used them all. 

No accidents.  OK.  We have followed rule #1.  Thou shalt not piss. 

Rule #2 was a little more difficult.  Thou shalt not bite.  She adored Bubba's ears and tail.  Poor cat looked like had gotten piercings, but he put up with it with surprising good humor.  He wasn't afraid to cuff her if she got too wild.   I think Bubba also knew he was dying and wanted to train a replacement. 

One of my fondest memories is Bubba coming home, calling Varmie, and giving her a live lizard.  She was so happy to chase it all over the house as he watched indulgently. 

She was wild.  I figured out I could redirect her with play; and we did.  We have various teasers, "Fluffy" and "Stringy".  We have the paper bag.  We have various balls.  She loved to bat plastic bottle caps on the floor.  She still enjoys all her toys but the bottle caps and the crazy circle.  Apparently, those are baby toys.

I used to fall asleep to the sounds of Varmie attacking the crazy circle.  It bled off a lot of the wild energy. 

If a friend is right, Ron and I actually adopted a Bengal.  She acts like one, looks like one.  No one reported her missing and it seemed clear it was a dump job, putting her in our yard. 

It's obvious, when you drive past my house, I have a cat door.  I have a very fat and happy cat in the driveway.  That might be a good spot to get rid of the last kitten.  They were right. 

She's ours now, but boy I fought it. 

For one, I was far too grabby in the beginning, picking her up all the time.  She doesn't like that.  She's been a little aloof. 

I also rolled over on her, one night, when she got in bed with me.  A 2 pound kitten versus a 200 pound woman - I heard a horrible squeak.  She stopped sleeping with me, except the night Bubba died (she laid by my head for a while).  I took care of her, but I didn't like her much. 

For whatever reason, brown-eyed cats have always given me the creeps.  She was the first "brownie" too.  I held that against her. 

However, she won me over, particularly the night Bubba died.  She knew he was sick and stood over him, meowing sadly as she watched him struggle to breathe.  She slept by my head - remember the last time she got in my bed, I mashed her - so that was a very big gesture. 

Afterwards, she clearly grieved as much as we did.  After a period of getting acquainted, she happily accepted Pretty Girl into her home, realizing PG fills the snuggler role. 

As I lay in bed today for my nap, I thought to myself, I can tell how much I love something by the names I have for it.  I call her Varmie.  Varms.  Varmalicious (Ron's favorite), Baby Girl (my name for her), and Little Girl (Ron's name for her). 

Whatever I call her, she's a good, loving, baby, and I'm glad she chose to live with us.