History
Growing up, there were always cats in my house. At least one. Sometimes more. Early in my marriage, the hubby and I had two cats. Then came kids. Years later, as the cats and kids got older, I assumed I’d eventually have more help with the litter boxes. At one point, I taped money to the handle of the cat litter scoop – in a bag, of course, because Ew! A month later, that bag was still there. At that point, I said once the cats died, we wouldn’t be getting more.
And I stuck to it.
For a while.
The first (two) cats – Sandy and Minerva
Eventually, the husband and kids wore me down, and I agreed to get a cat. So off to the shelter we went. In May, or maybe June, of 2018, we brought home not one, but two cats. Sandy and Minerva were adorable, playful kittens. The girls loved them. Everyone pitched in. We were happy. Stable. Responsible adults with two kids and two cats and no plans for more.
The Cat Distribution System – Romeo
So naturally, the cat distribution system struck just about one year later. During a rainstorm one summer day, I went out through my garage to get something from my van, parked outside. When I opened the garage, I heard a strange sound. A quiet cry. At first, I thought one of the cats, a little over a year old now, had followed me into the garage. But they hadn’t. Instead, under my van, soaking wet and horribly skinny, was a small, reddish-brown kitten. I’d never seen this coloration on a cat before. I yelled for my kids to bring me cat treats and lured the small baby into the garage. To avoid transmission of any illness, we kept this newcomer in a dog crate in the garage overnight, planning to turn him over to the vets office in the morning.
The following day, the hubby and kids left for a camping trip. I took the “stray” to the vet. He was much older than I anticipated – at least 9 months old despite weighing in at less than three pounds. The vet couldn’t take him. The shelter was full. I’d have to find him a home or put him back outside. He tested clean for any communicable diseases, so I brought him inside. That was my mistake. Once a cat enters the house, courtesy of the CDS, there is no conceivable way to undo it. And so, Romeo joined the crew.
Romeo, despite being underweight and having an eye infection, wanted nothing more than to be loved. By anyone. cat or human. Didn’t matter. Unfortunately, Sandy and Minerva wanted no part of this newcomer. They weren’t mean to him, but they wouldn’t let him join in their cuddle puddle.
A tragic loss – FIP – Minerva
Minerva had some strange habits. One of which was sitting on the scale. Every time she accompanied you to the bathroom. Through this habit, we noticed that she was dropping weight steadily for a few weeks and brought her to the vet. Our primary vet strongly suspected that Minerva had Feline Infectious Peritonitis – the “wet” form, which is caused by a mutation of the corona virus. In 2019, when this happened, there was no legally available treatment for this disease. There was a “black market” drug that might help – but it was thousands of dollars per dose and not guaranteed.
We sought a second opinion, hoping the diagnosis was wrong. The second vet ended up confirming the diagnosis during surgery and we decided it was better to let her pass peacefully without waking her up again and having her suffer.
As of 2024, FIP is treatable. If you know someone impacted by FIP, make sure the vet checks the Merck Veterinary Manual.
The house felt wrong afterward. Too quiet. Even Romeo seemed to notice.
Romeo’s emotional support kittens
After the loss of Minerva, Sandy adopted the dog as her snuggle-buddy. The dog was very receptive to it. Unfortunately, this still left Romeo alone. Hubby and I talked and decided we could get another cat for Romeo to snuggle with.
At this stage, my daughters — six years apart and professional arguers — couldn’t agree on anything. I came up with what I believed to be a brilliant plan. I’d take each of the girls to the shelter separately and let them each pick out one kitten to bring home. Then Romeo would have a selection and maybe Sandy would make a friend of her own species.
My brilliant plan was a great parenting decision. It was not a great pet-acquisition decision. It was at this shelter visit that I learned that I’m incapable of bringing home only one cat at a time, even if I know that another is already planned. Cleopatra and Figaro were housed together at the shelter – and bringing home just one would have left one sad, lonely kitten in a cage. I. Can’t. Have. That.
So, I brought home two kittens.
Now reader, let me remind you: I left one child at home while doing this. One child picked out two kittens. Are you seeing my dilemma?
I had to be fair to the second child. So, back to the shelter we went. We walked in with our own cat carrier to transport the newest selection(s) home. When we got there, the shelter staff laughed and offered me a volume discount. After some time in the “cat room”, two more kittens – both variations of grey – were selected to join the chaos.
And just like that, our number of cats tripled in a single day.
At this point, we had six cats.
Surely, this was the end of the story.
Reader, it absolutely was not.