Category: Shu-Shu

The Great Kitty Trial Run of 2004

Not since Ringo Starr’s 3-minute meeting with Ann B. Davis in a unisex bathroom of a small Omaha, Nebraska nightclub in 1972 has there been such a meeting of minds as there was yesterday afternoon in my apartment when Montana Girl’s cat Othello and I joined forces to take on the world and single-handedly put an end to cancer, starvation, crime, and subsequently, prostitution. Yes, that’s right, Othello moved into my apartment for a week at the end of which we should know for sure whether or not he gets along well enough with The Virgin Mary’s (TVM) cats Sherbert and Shu-Shu. So far so good. Here are some highlights:

1. Sherbert seems remarkably calm with the transition. After learning of the presence of a third cat in the apartment, and upon determining the food supply to be satisfactorily stable, Sherbert was business as usual. He slept on the couch, and didn’t flinch an inch when Othello greeted him with a hiss and kitty growl.

2. Shu-Shu, though remaining in TVM’s bedroom for the duration of the first day, did make a few appearances out from under TVM’s bed and was seen this morning staring through the bedroom glass door at Othello as he roamed around the dining room. Although greeting Othello with hisses and kitty growls on Day 1, she seemed somewhat peaceful this morning and able to stand her ground (behind the bedroom door) as Othello hissed in her direction.

3. Othello, as should be expected considering he’s been uprooted from his home and mother, has been acting nervous and excited rolled up in a big ball of curious reservations. With the help of his kitty tower, kitty litter, water, food, and “Catnip Box,” he’s made a home for himself in my bedroom. He’s fond of the square-box-shaped crawl space behind my clothes rack and so I’ve officially dubbed that area of my room “Othello’s Fort.” I think he realized early on that my room was really his room and should there be a kitty brawl, he has a safe haven to which he can run.

4. TVM and I have decided to divvy up apartment time between the three cats. Othello had most of yesterday evening to roam around the apartment while Sherbert and Shu-Shu were stuck in TVM’s room; then Sherbert and Shu-Shu had all night to roam the apartment while Othello was in my room. This morning, there was a brief “communal time” where all cats roamed around freely. Today, Othello has the apartment until 1, then Sherbert and Shu-Shu have the afternoon, and then Othello has the evening for an hour or so.

5. While stuck in my room last night, Othello seemed more than content to snuggle with me on my bed. This quiet time lasted until about 2 a.m. at which point he felt the need to explore the various nooks and crannies, and then mark his territory in the kitty litter box not once, but three times. It was also discovered by me that Othello is quite possibly the loudest eater in the history of cats. At approximately 6 a.m., there was a kitty confrontation through the crack at the bottom of my door between Othello and an undetermined kitty. Both cats expressed their disgust with the other with the traditional hissing. At approximately 6:30 a.m., Othello began crying to be let out of the room. TVM opened the door to feed him and thus began the aforementioned “communal time.”

In summary, after 24 hours, Othello seems to be as well-adjusted as can be expected; Sherbert couldn’t give any less of a crap about Othello; Shu-Shu has been less social than her normal self, which, I might add, is far less social than the normal cat. More updates to come.

Here kitty kitty kitty

Contrary to popular* belief that can be partly blamed on a nasty rumor that originated somewhere in the Sahari Desert, I have not, as of yet, fathered any children. Yes, that’s right, folks, thanks to the concerted effort of myself and numerous (though not THAT numerous) women, I’m 27 and without children. Please please, hold your applause until the end.

Although, ironically, in order to achieve such a lack of responsibility in the present, I had to be extremely responsible in my past, it’s safe to say that I’ve never considered myself to be a responsible person. And so, it is with an extremely nervous tone that I declare to the world that in two days I will be the proud and skittish pseudo-owner of a beautiful and skittish black cat named Othello. I say “pseudo” because the permanent custody of Othello is yet to be determined.

You see, my friend, who for obvious geographic reasons pertaining to her childhood shall henceforth be called Montana Girl, has discovered that she does not have the time and energy necessary to give Othello the love and attention any pet needs. Yes, she’s THAT busy. And then, one day, when she determined that Othello was the equivalent of my kitty soul mate, it was decided that I would ultimately assume responsibility and ownership of said kitty. But first…

I have a roommate and I can’t believe I haven’t yet mentioned her. For obvious religious reasons, I’m going to call her The Virgin Mary. Well, you see, The Virgin Mary, when moving into our apartment, brought with her two very adorable and eccentric kitties named Sherbert and Shu-Shu, who, for the remainder of this blog will be referred to as Sherbert and Shu-Shu. Sherbert is old (as The Virgin Mary says, “age undetermined”) and has one fake eye; Shu-Shu is a SCAREDY CAT with a capital S and CAREDY CAT. They’ve all settled into the apartment nicely but a new cat could completely negatively disrupt their lives. And so, Montana Girl, The Virgin Mary, and I decided to have a Trial Run. We’d take Othello for about a week or so to see how he adjusts and to see how the other two kitties adjust and if everything works out, he’s mine. If things don’t work out, he’s the Humane Society’s. No pressure, right?

And so, two days from now is Day 1 of said Trial Run. And in 9 days, if all goes well, I’ll be a daddy. And I’m nervous. Really nervous. I’ve never cared for anything by myself. I’ve only ever cared for a living, breathing thing for a few hours at a time (in the case of my nieces), a few days at a time (in the case of my roommate’s kitties), or with the assistance of my family (in the case of my childhood dog). Never with the buck stopping at me. Cousin J’s recent fish trauma only intensified my fears. What if something goes terribly wrong? What if Sherbert eats Othello? What if Shu-Shu goes insane? Now I’m the scaredy cat.

*In this instance, “popular” is used loosely if only because it’s untrue.