I remember when I was so wee, I would constantly beg my mom for a pet. I would list any type of pet that I would want to have around the house – a dog, a fish, a bird, a rabbit… the list goes on! But the one pet that I wanted more than anything was a cat. I’ve known several people in my 20 years living on this planet who had pet cats. The cats were utterly adorable. As a kid, I wouldn’t leave them alone! I was always petting them and holding them. So of course, I was always asking my mom for a pet cat.
And what was her answer every time I asked? A very simple yet very gut-wrenching “no.” She just did not want to have to deal with the shedding and the scratching on the furniture. I didn’t blame her. It didn’t stop me from asking her though. And one day, after a visit to a family friend who happened to have a cat, my friend and I managed to convince her to finally bring home our little fuzzball!
We adopted an orange tabby who we decided to name Sabo. He’s like a little lion. I have to say, he’s quite the handful! The first few days with him were wonderful; we were all cuddling him and playing with him. But then he decided to wreak havoc in our home. As expected, he started to scratch the furniture despite his readily available cat tree that we bought for him before we even brought him home. He spills his food everywhere, which brings upon us an army of ants ready to take over. There’s also the fact that he just will never stop hopping on the counter. Literally nothing fazes this little guy! “Sabo no!” Nothing. “Get down!” Nope. “I’m putting you in a timeout!” Nada.
A lot of these things are manageable. The one thing that drives me up the wall the most is the fact that Sabo constantly bites my feet. Now, I know it’s no secret that cats bite and scratch; I expected it. No big deal. But for some reason, a reason beyond my realm of understanding, he wants to chew on my feet and my feet alone. I’ll hold out my hand for him to bite instead. He still wants my feet. I’ll dangle his toys over his head to distract him. He wants my feet. I’ll rub his neck to calm him down. Alas, he wants my feet.
Sure, Sabo can rile me up. But do I regret all those years of begging my family to adopt a cat? Not at all. I would not give him up for anything. He might like to bite my feet and make a mess, but how could I possibly live without him rubbing his face on mine? How could I give up on his soft purring and his affectionate nibbling on my fingers? Why would I turn away from the little fuzzball who likes to sleep on my bed and comes to visit me in my room late at night when he’s feeling lonely? The answer is simple: I just can’t! He’s my adorable little troublemaker and I love him to death!