I've had cats most of my life. There was a short interlude when I lived in DC with guys with allergies and couldn't have a cat. Then I moved into an apartment with my friend K and I was able to adopt a cat. Another friend had adopted two cats rescued from Miami after Hurricane Andrew and they weren't fitting in well with her cats.
Mickey was a nervous cat. For the first months, he really seemed to love my roommate more than me. He loved her crochet blanket and slept in her room all the time. I'm not sure when it changed and he began sleeping in my room...
But he had a bad habit which I ended up working to fix. His front claws had been removed and a lot of time when this happens, cats bite a lot. And Mickey bit quite a lot. He would have these odd fits and I would have to roll him up in a blanket and kind of sit on him. He would run and hide in his litter box when it rained hard. He was very nervous and I kept working to break him of this habit. It took me most of his life.
He was with me when I moved off to Brooklyn by myself. I woke him up many nights when I heard something and was looking for a burglar. He used to sleep rolled up against my back.
It took me a long time to break him of his biting. And he went through a period of being a bit of a chub. But then he started to thin down. That's because I adopted the evil Tootsie. They used to fight...but Mickey always seemed to prevail. He had this stare that worked not only on her but also on dogs.
When I roomed in a group house with some of my friends, my friend Katha would often bring her dog Murphy with her. Now Murphy LOVED food and to a dog...cat food is the best. Murphy knew there was cat food upstairs and he really wanted to get to that food. However, Mickey would sit on the top step and stare at Murphy. And Murphy would not even try it. He would bark and bark at Mick and Mick would never move. He'd just stare.
He was quite the sassy cat. Every once in awhile he'd lean over and lick my hand to show me he loved me. He was in the vet hospital twice when I had him...once in Brooklyn and once here in Ashburn. Both times when I came in to visit him, I'd reach in the cage and he'd lick my hand as if to say...I love you...get me out of here.
He was a really good fellow, who rolled with the punches. When I adopted Tootsie, he smacked her a couple of times and they sort of separated the house into two parts...his and hers. And he always made sure he had the best parts. At night, Tootsie stayed on one side of the bed and he stayed on the other rolled up against my back. Which I really miss.
Tootsie sleeps as if she is a sphinx on a pillow. Clouseau is busy, busy and he sleeps on the bedside table. He's such a kooky kitten. Neither one is a lap kitty. Mickey would sit in my lap, give my hand a lick and after ten minutes would go back to his place on the sofa and sleep. When you have a pet for as long as I had the Mick-ster...you really get used to having them around and their rhythms. I really miss him a lot...but he was an old fellow and it was time for him to go to rest.
But I'll miss that fella.
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