Before we really get into things, I want to introduce you to our star players. They have been with me through thick and thin and are very much a part of my life.
Backstory: I did not actually grow up with cats. Less than a month after finishing undergrad, Liam entered my life. He was brought into the vet clinic with his sister, Tina, when he was about two days old. I think I can safely say that Liam was the first love of my life. I watched him grow from this itty bitty, fragile baby into a giant, goofy fluff ball. Liam sparked my love of cats. He also helped raise Oliver and Orange. Sadly, Liam passed away when he was four years old from heart disease. He fought for 13 long months after he was diagnosed with HCM (hypertrophic cardiomyopathy) and congestive heart failure. He was a trooper and I will always miss his handsome face.
Fast forward to now: We will start with Oliver, the patriarch of the family. Oliver is my black cat. He is smart, laid back, and LOVES food. He also enjoys watching cat TV and goes crazy over every interactive toy I've introduced. Oliver came into my life almost 10 years ago when he was a little kitten. A friend (shout out to Chris) rescued and bottle fed his litter. Once he was weaned from the bottle, I took him in and took over the role of mom. The rest is history.
Orange found me next. She, of course, is the orange and white cat. Orange is petite, dainty, and my personal shadow. In fact, she is sitting on my lap right now. Orange came with 6 other kittens from a rescue in New York when she was about two weeks old. The rescue was inundated with kittens and needed foster help. Who can say no to 7 fuzzy bundles of fluff? I named the kittens by their colors so I wouldn't become attached. Six kittens found furrever homes (two with my brother), but Orange didn't want to leave. And that was A okay with me. I tried to name her Alice, but Orange just stuck.
Fiona (lovingly nicknamed Fifi) is a torti. As many of you know, tortis and calicos have reputations for being divas. Fiona truly lives up to this reputation. Fifi was found wandering in a backyard when she was about 8 weeks old. This happened to be about 3 months after Liam passed and I was still hurting. I remember seeing Fifi with her mischievous little face just looking up at me and demanding to come home. That innocent little face has morphed into quite the RBF (just look at her picture on the homepage). But I wouldn't have it any other way. She demands head scratches, but then gives you finger nibbles when she's had enough. Don't even think of trying to pet her anywhere below the neck. She needs sedation for her vet visits (don't even try drawing blood when she's awake) and hisses when she is not happy. Fifi started chasing and antagonizing Orange, which sparked a lot of the "environmental enrichment" I've embraced over the past year. Fiona holds a special place in my heart. She is my naughty baby.
And last, but not least, we have Owen, who is affectionately called Baby Owen most of the time. Owen is a medium-hair gray tiger. He was an extremely sick kitten rescued by a vet tech. He made a miraculous recovery, but may have lost a few brain cells in the process. Owen doesn't have the grace you expect from a cat, but he also has no shame. He will fall off the couch or the bed and get up like nothing happened. He also likes to slowly slide down the stairs like a mop - it's weird. He likes to talk to me when he is feeling needy and is the slowest, messiest eater I've ever encountered. Owen loves following around his big brother, Oliver, and cuddles with whichever sibling he can find.
And then there is me. I'm an introvert. I'm kind of awkward. And I'm totally a cat person. Welcome to my family.
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