I have 53 pictures of my cat on my iPhone in poses ranging from cuddling to chasing her tail. I adopted my kitten Molly (Miss Molly Mittens if you’re nasty) five weeks ago and she’s already taken up 14% of my camera photos and an even larger percentage of time cleaning my apartment.
Two months ago I couldn’t keep a plant from shriveling up and dying, but now I’m a mom of sorts, (which totally means I expect gifts on Mother’s Day). My transformation into cat lady was so swift I almost missed it, but thankfully my friends were there to point out that I was becoming that creepy woman with a cat… Not. Sure, all the tell-tale signs were there, but I refused to acknowledge the fact that I was beginning to like my kitten more than most people: the baby-talk, the catnaps, the kitty litter remnants everywhere and, of course, the scratches.
I’m quite the impulsive person, and after meeting and falling instantly in love with my best friend’s cat I started the search for a four-legged friend to love me despite my tendency to never return texts, cancel first dates and crippling fear of commitment.
Now don’t let anyone tell you Craigslist is for creeps. Sure, a percentage of those using the site for “casual encounters” are people you would never want to meet in a dark alley, but there are plenty of legitimate good finds. This is where I found Molly. I adopted her from a perky high school girl who had received the cat as a gift she was unable to keep. Lucky for me her mom was allergic.
It was love at first meow. I met Molly’s former owner in a parking lot with FlipCam in hand, marking an important turning point in my life: my first cat video. Bringing her home was interesting, especially when my mother heard her nails claw the living room furniture set for the first time. My cat’s sheer energy was also very off-putting for my family, who were understandably used to chilling in front of the TV without fear of being scratched or bitten by a furry feline.
Molly and I set up shop at my house for a few weeks before coming back to Austin for session one of summer school. Only problem was my apartment complex doesn’t allow animals. To answer your question, yes I am secretly housing a kitten in my two-bedroom apartment at a secret location, and damn it is not easy. There’s not really too much a 3-month old kitten can do in an apartment beside damaging the drapes but my complex’s habit of entering your place at their discretion still has me on my toes.
Although my legs have one or two unflattering red scratches at all times and most of my silky pillows are snagged, I can’t say I regret changing into the “creepy cat lady” who talks about her pet at parties. The creepy stare-offs I have with my cat before she pounces and tries to claw my eyes out are something I wouldn’t trade for the world.