Owning a Cat

So I got myself a cat.

I've been wanting a pet for some time, and since I'm a bit of a homebody when I get off work. I just wanted a companion to hang out with when I got home. I wasn't to picky about color or gender, what I wanted was a cat independent enough that it would be alright if I wasn't home for hours but was playful enough that I could toss things at it and watch it go into a kitty tizzy.

Because, well, face it, cats are amusing creatures. Even if some people can't stand them.

So yesterday I made an effort to go find a cat. One problem I faced is that I am currently not home, and though I'm allowed pets where I live, I've got another problem in that I won't be here forever, so when I go home, one of two things will happen to me and this cat. Either it will come home with me (and I will have to look at getting my own place because the cat will either become an outdoor cat or I have to move out of my current living arrangement (brother allergic to cats)) or I will have to take it back to the humane society. I probably shouldn't have gotten the cat because I couldn't 100% guarantee that I will be able to keep the kitty until it's death, but a lot can happen between now and a year from now.

So I went kitty shopping, and came home with a just shy of two year old cat. I wanted one that was socialized, and not a kitten, because you never know what you are going to get with a kitten. Sure, kittens are cute and all that, but they always grow up to become a cat. And kittens are often different then their adult counterparts.

Well, I found myself a kitty. A fluffy orange furball that is exactly the opposite of what I wanted to get in a cat. I wanted a cat that was independent, but when I saw this furry kitty there was just something about him that made me think 'he's my cat'.

His name, Soldier Boy. Soldier Boy however, needs to soldier up a bit. I call him Joe. He is not remotely shy though. I put him in a room and closed the door, and all he does is meow and scratch at the door to be let out. He wants to be around me at all times. He is completely dependent and craves attention.

I got a cat to keep me company when I get off of work, and damn it, the cat's about as demanding of my time as the Joes at work are. So his name fits him. I think he could do with a shaved fur coat too. But don't worry, I'm not cruel, I would never do THAT.

I think I'll do Friday Cat Blogs. Or something. Tell you all about Joe jumping on my head and trying to pet me back with his paw. I swear, this cat thinks he's human! He's extremely sweet, and has a constant motor running. I'll be holding him by the scruff of the neck so I can clean the ear wax out of his ears and he STILL purrs!

Damn, I should have never brought home the darn cat. Hopefully things work out alright, but if he doesn't soldier up and goes nuts when I'm gone for twelve to sixteen hours a day, I might have to take the cat back to the Humane Society.

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