You know, I have shared little bits and pieces about our cats, but have never really gotten to how we came about acquiring them . . . or THEM acquiring US, as is probably more accurate.
So I think the next few posts will be about the cats Dear Hubby Steve and I have had over the years, and how they came to be a part of our household.
The first one will be Dusty - - she came into our home in 1986, I believe, and was a very bossy, opinionated, stubborn little girl!
I had been wanting a cat for awhile, but Steve was just not sure about it. So the topic of "Let's Get A Cat" kind of simmered on the back burner for awhile. Then Steve left for a weekend to ride along with the Chicago Fire Dept (he was a volunteer firefighter). I just happened to be scanning the "Pets" Classifieds (hey, just looking, okay?) and saw a cat listed as "Free To Good Home" - - so I called and talked to the people. Then went over there to meet her. Then brought her home.
By the time Steve got home, she was a part of our family. (I also told him to try going away for the weekend again, and see what happened!)
It was not easy at first with Dusty. She was, as I said previously, very stubborn and opinionated. She did not know who I was, or where she was, and all she wanted was to GET OUT OF THERE. In fact, she did get out one afternoon, and we could not find her. She was gone all night and into the next day. I was beside myself! Then, that afternoon, I heard the little bell she wore around her neck. I went to the front door, and there was Dusty! She ran in, laid down in the middle of the living room, exhausted. But from that day on, she was ours, and she started loving us.
We had dear Dusty for 8-1/2 years, and she was already 2 years old when we got her. We moved to our other house, which came with our next cat (Callie, who will be discussed in a future post). A couple of months after we moved, Dusty started acting like she did not feel good - - she was not eating, she would just crawl up into my Lincoln Rocker with all the stuffed animals in it and sleep all day and night. She stopped running, which she did ALL THE TIME, and loved to do. I knew there was something wrong. Steve took her to the Vet, and it turned out she had developed Fatty Liver Disease. There were things they could do for her, but it would cost thousands of dollars (which we did not have to spare), and the Vet said she would still have many health problems. We made the very hard decision to have her put to sleep.
I cried like a baby, and it took me a long time to get over losing my little girl.
By that time, we had Callie . . . but that is another post.