Windy Sydney

I figured it was about time that I posted about something non-church related. There are times when I wonder if people out there on the net think I am angry and bitter (I am angry, I admit that) at the church simply because it's all I seem to talk about on my blog. Today is different. I just wanted to share some thoughts about my "kids."

Growing up, I was never allowed to have cats. My Dad simply HATED them. Really. He hated cats. I never figured out why, but he claimed it had something to do with the fact that cats are not super-excited to please their owners all the time. Dogs on the other hand, were happy all the time no matter what. I understand why he thought this, but I wish he would have given a little kitten a chance to grow on him!


Roomie and I adopted our first cat, Abbey Road, from a shelter in Orlando, Florida. She was found by a group of kids almost beaten to death on Halloween night. They finally got the little striped kitten to trust them (thank God) and she came out from hiding. The kids took the kitten to a home of a woman who was known to take in strays. She gave the cat some first-aid type care and took her to the vet/shelter the next day.

When we were filling out the paperwork for her adoption, one of the shelter workers told us how she was found and I was floored. I knew right away that I would spoil the hell out of this little critter, and make up for the way she was treated.


I would love to have five minutes alone with the people responsible for hurting her... I would love to have five minutes with anyone who hurts an animal. It's sick, wrong, and shows a severe lack of love and compassion. It's quite obvious animals feel pain, and have souls. Each animal has a personality, likes, and dislikes. How dare people do stuff like that... would they do that to a human? I suppose they might, huh? Scary.


Abbey Road came home with us and she was scared out of her little kitty-cat mind. She immediately ran under our living room sofa, and it took a can of wet food, plenty of kitten milk, and a full hour to get her out. By the end of the night she was napping peacefully on my chest purring away. She learned quickly that we would never, ever, hurt her.


You know, after all the horrible things that happened to her that Halloween night (she was beaten badly) she has no problem being friendly to anyone that comes over for a visit. She is by far the friendliest and sweetest of the cats, and the only reminder of the horrible beating she received is a slight noise she makes when she drinks. She is a spoiled, happy girl.


Spooky Bear was rescued from a cat hoarder in Florida. Something like 65 cats were taken from this lady's home, and most of them were too sick to be adopted out. Spooky had worms, and she was scared to death of humans, but after helping Abbey we were ready to help another kitten.

It took us a long time to come up with a name for Spooky Bear. She was scared out of her mind most of the time, and we even walked slow to make it more comfortable for her. She was "spooked" no matter what. We found ourselves looking for the little dark gray kitten saying, "Where are you little spooky?" and it just stuck. I added the "bear" at the end to give her a proper name like Abbey Road. I am weird like that.



One night I was looking around for Spooky and found her in the corner of my old apartment in Florida, bend almost in half, trying to nurse on herself. I guess she was taken away from her Mom way too soon, and I am still pretty clueless as to what happened to her Momma Cat. Roomie and I did our best to get her to stop trying to nurse on herself like that and she eventually stopped.


Spooky is still spooked, but not nearly as bad. The move to Utah was hard on her because she was so frightened. She loves the new apartment though, it has much more room than she was used to in Orlando. The only thing she carries with her from her previous encounters is how she guards her food. She stands up when she eats, she never sits. Always ready to pounce on a cat that is willing to try and fight her for her dinner. We have to feed her separately from the other two to keep the peace. I think even that is getting better.


Spooky loves to eat paper and plastic, so we have to constantly make sure there are no plastic grocery bags or sheets of paper laying around that she can ingest. She can sit for hours chewing on a grocery bag, I guess she loves the texture or something...

Somehow along the line, Spooky Bear received a nickname. I have no idea how it happened, but I love to call her "noodle."


Buddha Belly was given to me as a gift from my brother. His cat had TONS of kittens, and I just had to take one home. Buddha was scared (they all were) when she came home, and the other two cats were trying to intimidate her. She didn't give a crap. She was so used to her brothers and sisters that she was oblivious to Abbey and Spooky. She just didn't give a damn... she was so small at the time that I worried a little about her.


I have never seen an animal that small take on two full grown cats and not give a crap. She has been a joy ever since the day we brought her home. She LOVES to play... even as a grown cat. She will walk into the living room, find a toy, pick it up with her mouth, drop it in front of you, meow, and paw at it while giving you the cutest sad eyes you have ever seen... EVER. She has us wrapped around her little finger... err... paw?


There you have it. My furry family.
Andee