O is for Oliver

Up until 1991, I always believed I was a ‘dog’ person.  Cats were too aloof.  Dogs played.  They were happy to see me.  They were funny and fun.  Cats just laid around all day and did nothing…until I met my first cat, Spooky.  He had a bump on his head from flinging himself into his reflection in the mirrored blinds we had on our slider door.  As a kitten, his motor was so loud I couldn’t believe it was coming from his tiny body.  He was an awesome cat and it broke our hearts when he passed away in 2008 at the age of 17.

Other kitties followed.  In 1994 we ended up with Tigger while at the pound looking for a dog.  She was a princess in every sense of the word and a tiny thing. You could usually find her in the same spot every day – sleeping on my modem.  She passed away last year at the age of 17.

Then came Casper.  I found him as a kitten 1n 1997, barely 3 weeks old, abandoned, thrown in a median on a very busy road.  The vet didn’t think he was going to make it, but make it he did.  He’s a love kitty.  He lives to be held and cuddled.  He’s not doing well right now and I expect he’ll cross the Rainbow Bridge soon.  He’s 15.

And then there’s Oliver.  We call him Ollie for short, and this cat is nothing but piss and vinegar.  He was named after Disney’s “Oliver and Co.” and he is my precocious wild child.  I mean, this cat climbs my door frames and hangs there.  Sometimes he gets zooming through the house with his tail all poofed up like a bottle brush.  He plays fetch with wads of paper and he’ll wake us up in the middle of the night with toys he finds (twist ties, play mice).  He lays on his back with his belly exposed all the time and when we had the cat tree in our room, he’d jump from the very top onto the bed while we were sleeping and then strut off like he’d accomplished some amazing feat.  He plays with my Aussie, Toby, and is a cuddle bug through and through.  He likes drinking water out of the faucet and sleeping in the bathroom sink.  I call him my sink dweller.  And every morning when I get up, he comes up on  my ‘desk’ and lays right next to the keyboard and printer, right in the middle of all my mess, and keeps me company.

I love my Ollie cat.  He makes me laugh and he’s always there for me when I’m sad.  My Ollie…he truly is a family cat and my kindred feline spirit.  Yes, this orange creature has wormed his way into my heart, and this ‘dog’ girl’s life will never be the same.

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