Great. Obviously my target audience is cat owners, so it’s great to hear that you could relate.
I will definitely be chopping the beginning.
Journalism / Everything I know about love, I’ve learned from my cats
About a week after I finally found a pet-friendly apartment in New York, I started my search for the perfect kitten. All I wanted was a tiny kitten who had a long time to be tiny before I had to come to terms with having a full-sized cat who no longer wants to be bothered.
I tracked down an adoption center that advertised that they had just rescued ten cats from the Bronx. I spoke to a woman on the phone that suggested that I might want to take home two kittens. But I insisted on just one. I live in a New York studio. Who was she kidding?
I followed up with my appointment and the woman led me into a room with all ten kittens. They were tiny… not quite as tiny as I was hoping, but I am so impulsive that I could not leave without my new kitten.
But the more I stayed in the room, the more I felt like maybe I could handle two. I mean, what’s the difference, really?
I was immediately drawn to Ophelia. She was smaller than the rest, but all the cats loved her. She was in charge of the room. She walked right up to me to see what was up, and then went on to play with the others.
And then I fell in love with the kitten cowering in the corner.
Her name was Cassie, but I later named her Lolita. She would not play with the rest of the kittens and she certainly would not come anywhere near me. Not a chance.
We removed the rest of the cats from the room. Once the others were gone, Lolita interacted with Ophelia, and even ventured as far as playing with a string. But she stopped when she noticed that she was being watched. Like we had caught her having fun.
So, I took them both.
Ophelia remained just as adventurous and was the first to try everything, but the second to figure everything out. Lolita spent most of her time cowering in the corner, but when she thought I wasn’t looking she would teach Ophelia how to jump on the bed jump on the window sill, and find her way to the top of their scratching post.
Still, Lolita would not come near me. I did not touch that crazy cat for the entire first month that I had her. I was livid. I would look at her and yell (quietly), “Why am I paying for your food and cleaning your litter box if you’re not going to give me any love?” She would respond with a blank stare. Because giving love does not guarantee reciprocation.
When I wasn’t frustrated with her, I would take the time to wonder why she acted this way. Was she abused by the woman who had been looking over the litter in the Bronx? Did she have a bad experience when she was trapped? I would ask her. Oddly, she wouldn’t answer. But I knew that there was something going on with her that I could not hope to understand. That cat has baggage.
Ophelia, on the other hand, would let me pick her up, pet her, and sometimes she would sort of sit next to me. To this day, I have yet to win the battle of the lap. Neither of them will sit on my lap. Lolita because she’s terrified. Ophelia because she can’t be bothered. And God knows I’ve tried. But all the forcing leads to squirming and running away, and I have yet to make any progress. So I have given up. Because just like you can’t force a person to act like you want, you certainly can’t force a cat to either.
Eventually, Lolita graduated to letting me pet her. And then she graduated to peeing on my bed. Every time I go out of town, she pees on my bed upon my return. She doesn’t do it when I’m away; she waits until I get back. Just to make a point.
And the strongest point she ever made? She once peed in my suitcase before I left. She is a smart cat. She knew what I was up to with that suitcase. I didn’t find out until I got to Atlanta and opened up my suitcase. I wanted to get rid of her, and everyone encouraged me to get rid of her.
But I haven’t.
And she still won’t let me pick her up, but she lets me pet her. It’s been almost two years, and I feel like I’ve made great progress. The look on her face when I pet her is incomparable and it makes me want to shout out to everyone, “see how great it is when you give into letting someone love you?”
I know very little about love. But what I do know about love, I have learned from my cats. I look at Lolita and I imagine giving her away because of a little psychological problem. And then I image someone giving me away because I wasn’t perfect.
When I signed up to take two kittens home with me, I did not sign a conditional contract.
For better or worse; in sickness and in health.
So, now I have a routine. I go out of town, I come home, she pees on my bed, and I whip out the deodorizer. I use that until I feel like it’s just not working, and then I throw out my feather bed and buy a new one.
And, while Ophelia usually ignores me and devotes most of her energy to climbing on the mantle and chasing a sparkly gold ball, every once in a while, she curls up next to me on the couch. And that makes me realize that even the most secure beings feel vulnerable and need love.
And sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have different cats. Or a new kitten. I could even end up with a cat that doesn’t pee on my bed. But I could also end up with two cats that hate each other. I would be giving up two cats that cuddle and groom each other and spend hours and hours “killing” little gold balls. And that is a gamble I am not willing to take. Because I have signed up for the long haul.
And I hope I remember this someday when I am in love. And I hope that person understands this too.
You don’t jump ship because of a little urine.
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JaCarloHairston reviewed Version 1 -
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Curtastrophe reviewed Version 1 -
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Lekaylea reviewed Version 1 -
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I really like this piece. It reminds me of a cat that my mother currently owns. He is a big orange devil of a maine coon cat. He was badly abused as a kitten. His head was beat by a door from the previous owner, and he was stepped on by a cow.
I wish I was kidding.
But, he would behave very similar to your Lolita. He would cower and hide. He would flinch if someone raised their hand too quickly. Really sad. But, after a few years, he grew used to people. By this time, he loved his ‘family’, and would do a lot to protect them.
... and pee on the floor. And poop in the bathtub. And pee. And more peeing.
He would also go to lengths to prevent people from going on trips!
Hopefully in a few years, your pair of cats will really settle down and let you huggle them. It sounds like you have a great pair of cats.
As for the writing itself, I found it to be very engaging and personal. I found no serious errors to rattle me out of the pace of reading. Your story moves in a fluid, logical manner, that invoked emotion as I got closer to the end.
Great work!
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Easy_1 reviewed Version 1 -
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good story with a cute ending. im a cat fan as well so this was extra good. very well written, too.
missdeborahlee reviewed Version 1 -
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I am still laughing from this piece. Being a cat owner, it put a smile to my face because our cat is kinda snotty sometimes too and won’t let us touch her for days.
Your descriptions of the cat’s actions were a riot. I felt like I was really there.
I think that you could cut out a lot from the beginning. It was nice to know the background information behind your want for cats, but I think the real story is in how the cats treated you.
Pretty good draft.
enigmaticuser reviewed Version 1 -
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I liked this, as catowner who isn’t allowed to have his cat with him, this made me think of her a lot. Cat owners will definitely relate.
I would say that the first three paragraphs could use a little variation, too much “I did this” “I did that.”
Other than that it flows too well for me to notice anything. Maybe I’m a sucker cause I miss my cat. Good job, you made me lonely again!
a_lost_broadcast reviewed Version 1 -
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A little lengthy, and I think you should play around with your lead. I did like your ending, though, and overall, it was a very strong piece.
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