When Mindy Left And Mr. Kitty Stayed

If there is anything that creative people have in common, according to my observation, it is the love for animals and I notice especially a lot of feline friends among them. Myself included, I have 2 furry feline roommates of my own, Charlie, my beautiful black domestic male cat who is 8 years old and Mr. Kitty, my white/tabby/spotted feral friend, 2 years old.

Mr. Kitty, not liking the camera

They are my roommates, because that is just what and who they are. They have their own 'chair', their own 'bed', eat whenever they feel like it, sleep whenever they feel like it, they expect you to open the door when they want to get some fresh air (and let them back in when they have enough of being outside) and generally take over anything I try to read/type/write/eat or create.

Between these two, there is not much I can do without interference and their demand to acknowledge their presence. Charlie hates the jewelry making process. I will step away for 2 minutes, only to come back to him laying flat, stretched over all my wire, filigrees, tools and beads. How can that be remotely comfortable? It must poke him at all sides, but he doesn't seem to notice.... No, the fact that I have no choice but to notice HIM and not my jewelry supplies (as he believes I do not know where those supplies are now), that is the main goal.

Mr. Kitty couldn't care less about the jewelry making process, he is obsessed with the computer. I will step away for 2 minutes, only to come back to Mr. Kitty covering my laptop, giving himself a bath while all kinds of windows and help notices open on my computer screen, to the point where it will freeze for a few minutes... Charlie couldn't care less about the computer...

Charlie, about 2 years old here

Both love to sit right on top of the letters or paper I am reading, or the stack of papers I am trying to sort out.

When Charlie wants to go outside, he talks to me, very loud, impatiently, every 10 seconds, until I open the door, no matter if I am totally busy at the moment. When Mr. Kitty wants to go outside, he will climb on whatever furniture is closest to me, and will start to knock things off that furniture, until it hits the ground. Or if I am sleeping, he  likes to jump on my belly, not very gentle, until I sleepwalk to the door at 5 am, and let him out, because I can't stand it anymore.

But oh, how I adore them! Charlie came to me as a 6 week old kitten, right as I moved into the coolest place I lived in so far, here in Austin, TX. We lived there together 5 and a half years, then we had to move away. He is the sweetest and most loyal cat I have ever owned. I also know him very well and I can communicate with him, easy. He is amazing and I love him to pieces.

Mr. Kitty wasn't always Mr. Kitty. One evening I came upon Charlie hanging out with a tiny, ivory white, malnourished kitten, with a tabby tail and a few spots. He was part of a litter of feral cats in the neighborhood, and seemed unusual and was not afraid of me at all, when I met him, so weird, as he is afraid of all other human beings. Still, he will hide when friends come around. He was never afraid of me however. That was 4 days before I moved away from an apartment.

I locked the door of the empty apartment (I was sad that I had not seen the white kitten), but just as I stepped into the van, he came running up to me. I picked him up and put him in Charlie's carrier. He laid himself against Charlie and started purring like a motor boat.

Being born wild, the white kitten knew that whenever there was food around, to eat as much as he could, as he didn't know when he would eat again. I always have dry food in the cat's bowls. The very first day with me, he ate so much dry food! As I was sitting on the bed in our new place, he looked up at me, his tiny, skinny shoulders and hips connected by a huge, huge round balloon of a belly, full of dry cat food. He looked up at me and I fell totally in love, instantly.

Charlie washed him for the next couple of days, and the ivory kitten became snow white, with the cutest pink feet. As he was feral, he had barely a voice, just a whisper. He looked like a female, there were no testicles to detect, so I named him Mindy. Oddly enough, he didn't seem to listen to his name.

Two months later, on a lazy Saturday morning, Mindy was on my belly, turned around and to my big surprise I looked right at two white furry balls, right under his tail! By lack of a male name, he was temporarily Mr. Kitty. However, he listened to that name from the very start and still does to this day. Mr. Kitty is truly the most unusual cat, alpha male and fearless. He can be moody and demanding, but when tired, he wants to be as close to me as possible and fall asleep against me, as he feels most safe when I am around.

I love these two as if they were my own.