Jello and Misty - my first fail
1976 - This was a year of firsts: first adult apartment, first great job, first new husband (Greg). What better time to get a first pet, right? Jello was our first cat. She came to us roly-poly round - hence the name Jello. She was given to us by my in-laws; who better to get a kitten from than a family that had cats and dogs all their lives, right? Quiet and docile, Jello never gave us a moment's worry. She wandered the apartment, a quiet, steady presence whom I picked up and petted from time to time. She was well fed, always had a clean litter box, fresh water twice a day, warm comfortable spots to sleep -- what more could a kitten want! Toys for cats? Human interaction and bonding? Stimulation -- places to hide in, high spots to jump up on? Never entered my mind.
Several months later, said in-laws had more cuddly little kittens to give away -- Greg got to choose this time. Cute as a button; soft grey fur earning her the name Misty; female, we were assured. A great playmate for Jello! Indeed, the two did get along very well -- no fighting or hissing. Cosy little family we had there.
Misty grew at an alarming rate. This tiny little kitten looked like a big, full-grown cat within a few months. I don't know how much she weighed -- vets for cats? Never entered my mind and nobody mentioned shots or routine vet care. She was not docile at all. While she never hissed at Jello, she hissed at me all the time. The bigger she got, the more leery I became of her. She was always under my feet, tripping me when I'd get up half asleep to get my morning coffee. Fortunately, the broom was always close by and a quick sweep of the broom was enough to send her running off. I never touched her with the broom, so no harm done right? I wasn't cruel, just shamefully ignorant!
The bigger Misty grew, the more trouble she got into. She took to doing her business on the bathroom floor. Never heard of one litter box per cat. We came home from work one evening to find she had eaten half of the hamburg I had thawing on top of the fridge. Who knew a cat would jump onto a countertop then on top of the fridge and eat raw hamburg? Not me!
One night I had co-workers over for an end-of-season party. All was going well 'til one of the women picked up Jello and casually asked when her kittens were due! Kittens? Impossible...she's never been around a male cat. A quick look at Misty and the woman gave me that "Idiot" look. Uh oh... when Greg came home post-party, he was as dumbfounded as I was. Asking the in-laws about it the next day, they were mystified as to how that had slipped by them. Clever cat, fooling these experienced pet owners!
By and by, Jello gave birth to 3 live kittens -- we just awoke one morning to find three squirming little bodies in the litter box. That was Jello - no fuss, no bother, just carry on. At that point, I was less than enthralled with all these 4-legged creatures running around the apartment. I just sort of tuned out of the situation and let Greg deal with all kitty/cat things. Jello still got the occasional petting from me, Misty still found places to do his business and life went on. We managed to find 3 family members/friends who wanted the three cuddly little furballs and away they went as soon as they were weened. Wait...weened? Well, the in-laws were forgiven for their I.D. error and advice sought on when to release the kittens. Oh, at about four weeks old. Well, okay then.
After the kittens were gone, I decided that cats were more than I could handle. I suggested to Greg that perhaps we should take them down to the Toronto Humane Society. I knew about that organization as there had been a highly publicized shake-up and takeover throughout the year. It had recently become a no-kill shelter with animals being adopted out very quickly. Off we went to the THS - no argument from my husband, so it must be the right thing to do(?) Still, leaving those two cats in a strange place, not knowing what their future might hold, actually sickened me. For months after, my stomach got queasy just thinking about them and I vowed never to have another pet. I consoled myself with the hope that they both got adopted into a family that would take good care of them. The hope lingers to this day that they spent many happy, healthy years with a family that loved them, played with them and cherished their time on earth.
Several months later, said in-laws had more cuddly little kittens to give away -- Greg got to choose this time. Cute as a button; soft grey fur earning her the name Misty; female, we were assured. A great playmate for Jello! Indeed, the two did get along very well -- no fighting or hissing. Cosy little family we had there.
Misty grew at an alarming rate. This tiny little kitten looked like a big, full-grown cat within a few months. I don't know how much she weighed -- vets for cats? Never entered my mind and nobody mentioned shots or routine vet care. She was not docile at all. While she never hissed at Jello, she hissed at me all the time. The bigger she got, the more leery I became of her. She was always under my feet, tripping me when I'd get up half asleep to get my morning coffee. Fortunately, the broom was always close by and a quick sweep of the broom was enough to send her running off. I never touched her with the broom, so no harm done right? I wasn't cruel, just shamefully ignorant!
The bigger Misty grew, the more trouble she got into. She took to doing her business on the bathroom floor. Never heard of one litter box per cat. We came home from work one evening to find she had eaten half of the hamburg I had thawing on top of the fridge. Who knew a cat would jump onto a countertop then on top of the fridge and eat raw hamburg? Not me!
One night I had co-workers over for an end-of-season party. All was going well 'til one of the women picked up Jello and casually asked when her kittens were due! Kittens? Impossible...she's never been around a male cat. A quick look at Misty and the woman gave me that "Idiot" look. Uh oh... when Greg came home post-party, he was as dumbfounded as I was. Asking the in-laws about it the next day, they were mystified as to how that had slipped by them. Clever cat, fooling these experienced pet owners!
By and by, Jello gave birth to 3 live kittens -- we just awoke one morning to find three squirming little bodies in the litter box. That was Jello - no fuss, no bother, just carry on. At that point, I was less than enthralled with all these 4-legged creatures running around the apartment. I just sort of tuned out of the situation and let Greg deal with all kitty/cat things. Jello still got the occasional petting from me, Misty still found places to do his business and life went on. We managed to find 3 family members/friends who wanted the three cuddly little furballs and away they went as soon as they were weened. Wait...weened? Well, the in-laws were forgiven for their I.D. error and advice sought on when to release the kittens. Oh, at about four weeks old. Well, okay then.
After the kittens were gone, I decided that cats were more than I could handle. I suggested to Greg that perhaps we should take them down to the Toronto Humane Society. I knew about that organization as there had been a highly publicized shake-up and takeover throughout the year. It had recently become a no-kill shelter with animals being adopted out very quickly. Off we went to the THS - no argument from my husband, so it must be the right thing to do(?) Still, leaving those two cats in a strange place, not knowing what their future might hold, actually sickened me. For months after, my stomach got queasy just thinking about them and I vowed never to have another pet. I consoled myself with the hope that they both got adopted into a family that would take good care of them. The hope lingers to this day that they spent many happy, healthy years with a family that loved them, played with them and cherished their time on earth.