Sunday, September 15, 2013

The Story Of Ruby

It's no secret I love cats. I've accepted the role of Krazy Kat lady. 

As much as I wanted one growing up, my mother claimed she was allergic. I say claimed because after I was grown up and moved away, she 'adopted' a stray. Ugh. 

I got my first cat when I was about 22 years old. She was a stray, and orange tabby and she was awesome. She'd come running when I yelled her name, Rooster, at the top of my lungs. I'd just need to wait a few minutes and here she'd come, tearing around the corner. One day, when I was almost to term with my first born (who's not almost 20 years old), she came home with a gunshot wound to her underside. She never made a peep. The vet gave us some ointment and it healed right up. I loved that cat. She slept with my babies and talked all the time. When I got a divorce and moved back in with my family, I had to leave her behind because my mother wouldn't allow me to bring her. :(

When my girls were about 7 and 5ish, we adopted a cat from the SPCA, Vallie. Possibly the baddest-ass cat ever. My kids went to the shelter wanting a teeny baby. But after my oldest read that Vallie was given away because she 'needed too much attention' and that just broke her heart. "How does a precious kitty need too much attention, mommie?!" Later we adopted another, Maddie. Along the way we took in strays, nursed them and either found homes for them, gave them to the SPCA or found their owners. 

In the middle July, 2013, I was cleaning out the garage. It was a gross, rainy day but amidst the rolling thunder I kept hearing a kitten cry. I thought I was going nuts because it sounded like it was coming from one of the boxes in the garage but I couldn't find anything. It drove me crazy. The next day I see this....
A teeny little kitten! So skinny and shy. She (I say she because every kitty is a she to me) would bolt like lightening at any sight or sound of me. She'd scamper under the gate and then peek back. I had food and water for our Sparkles, so the baby knew where to eat and drink. 

Eventually I put a bowl of food and water close to the gate for her and decided to move it closer to the patio little by little. 

She'd sleep on the fence under the leaves....

One day I was able to snatch her and hold her just for a second when she was sleeping. 

My daughter's boyfriend attempted to meet her, this is as close as he got.  My
daughter named her Ruby. So Ruby, it is!

 Sparkles kept her distance. The baby wanted to play so bad, but Sparkles
would have none of it.

 I moved the baby's food closer and closer each day....

 The two would nap together, but Sparkles would whip
the baby if she got too close....

 This is the baby's face each time I made a move...

 That face. LOL

 Then one day she did this!
I still couldn't make a move or try to pick her up.... 

 ..but I did manage to get a collar on her...which she hated. 

 She got used to the collar, and more used to me. 

 The adorableness was tummy-aching. 

 Finally, my cat whispering ways paid off!

 Who can resist this face!?

 Of course she has a habit of sleeping under my rocker, 
so I have to religiously check. LOL

 Sparkles still lets her knows who boss. 

 They both eat together.

 And I've become her personal jungle gym. 

Now, with all that said - we have made a discovery. She is a HE. Yup, two little furball balls were discovered. But despite the balls, we call him Ruby and keep the pink collar. I've decided
he will be my little drag queen cat. He's going as a princess for Halloween. 

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