Danielle Blog

Girlie-girl, the early years

I’ve been wanting to tell a couple of stories about the Girlie-girl, but I’ve also known that her stories need to be put into context.

I haven’t always been a cat person. In fact, I was strictly a dog person for the first, oh, 22-23 years of my life.

I took this pic of our Yorkshire Terrier, Nipper, with my first camera. (I took a digital picture of the print, which lowers the quality, but I’m working with what I’ve got here, cut me some slack.)

Wasn’t he cute?

I was very young when we got him as a puppy, I think I was 4. I have many, many memories of him. Someday I may tell some of them; it still hurts a little to think about him being gone.

He was with me through all of my growing-up years.

Mom took this pic of him.

My only exposure to cats during those years were cats that were none too friendly. These included my grandparents’ Siamese cats (Some had friendly moments but were mostly not friendly to me.), my friend’s pissy, mean black & white cat, and the pissy, mean black & white cat that belonged to HB’s family. The only good cat experiences I’d had were with my grandparent’s farm cats who seemed to be pretty happy-go-lucky, loved to be loved on and would purr and purr.

Jump ahead a few years, to when HB and I are in college and engaged (and are separated by 250 miles). I am in a dorm and have good girl friends, but HB is all alone in an apartment. The winter/spring before I am set to graduate and we are planning to get married, HB is getting more and more lonely. Someone he works with has a cat that has kittens and he really wants to get one.

Now, remember that my experience with cats was all fairly lukewarm. And I am fully aware that if he gets a cat, this cat will be with us and not just him, in the very near future.

How can I deny him a cat? So, I tell him it is okay to get a kitten with a few rules
1) The cat must learn to not get on end tables and tables.
2) The cat must learn to scratch on a scratching post and not the furniture.
3) He must play with the cat every day, no matter how tired or busy he gets. (Because I was convinced that cats get bad attitudes from lack of attention, especially when they grow out of their cute kitten phase.)
4) He is in charge of the litter box.
5) I’d really rather it not be a black and white cat.

When she is old enough to leave the momma cat, he brings Miss Cuteness home to his apartment.

I never got to see her during her kitten stage, but I still love looking at these old pics that HB took of her climbing on the headboard of his bed.

“Um…. so about that black and white ‘rule’…”

He played with her every day. He taught her to scratch on her scratching post, and stay off of the tables. And as she grew, she stayed very well behaved (and we’ve gone through a lot of scratching posts).

Her favorite toy was her koosh, and she loved getting on anything that was black (she still prefers black or dark objects over light).

The only thing we didn’t think of ahead of time, was the sleeping arrangements. You see, while HB would sleep on one pillow on one side of the bed, she would sleep on the other side of the bed on the other pillow.

Now, jump ahead to July/August of that year. HB and I get married and the 3 of us move to a new city and our first apartment together. And where do I sleep? Well, on the other side of the bed, of course.
The side that She had been sleeping on. I was on Her Pillow!

And she had a plan. Just as I’d fall asleep, she’d attack my feet and legs. I’d push her away, and she’d stop for a while, until I fell asleep… and then attack my legs again.
We’d close her out of the bedroom, and she’d rip at the carpet under the door.
“Shit! We just paid how much money as a security deposit and she’s ripping up the carpet! Quick! Open the door!”
Fall asleep, get attacked. Fall asleep, get attacked.

It was a rough month or so. To say the least.

Finally, she started sleeping between HB’s legs and would leave me alone if I kept my feet inside the covers.

To help her accept me, I became the one who fed her and petted her nicely. She always thought of HB as her play buddy. Not to say that he didn’t pet her or I didn’t play with her; it was just the roles we fell into the majority of the time. In fact, this pic is me playing with her koosh and getting her to jump and twist.

This was back in her thinner days, when she’d jump in the air to play.

And if a flicker of sun caught her eye up the wall, she’d jump up to bat at it.

With time though, she gained weight.

She went on a diet. And just became less active. And she’d gain weight.

And we’d cut her food more, and she’d become even less active than before. And she’d gain weight.

But well, we can’t all be slim and trim, right?

And as you probably know from my previous posts, our relationship has grown and grown over the years.

She waits for us until we come home. She follows us around, hangs out with us, and is friendly to visitors (as long as they only pet the dark areas!)

Her white belly may look soft and cuddly, but it is the venus-fly-trap belly.

Current pic of the Girlie-girl

I’m pretty sure that she loves us as much as we love her.

She is my cuddle-buddy.