Introductions: Polly

Some background first: my husband (H) and I are huge cat people. Love them. And we had a wonderful one named Nix who was really H’s but after J was born he had some jealousy issues and started peeing everywhere (Nix, not H. Pretty sure I would’ve gotten rid of him if that were the case. At least I’d like to think I would.) and we had to get rid of him. He’s currently living the sweet life on a farm belonging to my mom’s co-worker. An honest-to-goodness farm, not the magic farm that all our childhood pets went to when they gone run over by the neighbor’s pinto. Anyway, we swore we wouldn’t get another cat until we got a house and after we got our Boxer named Ramona (American dream: house with a yard, 2 kids and a family dog. I want it!).

Well, I was totally kidding Saturday night when I jokingly told H we should get a kitty. He was all, no. no cats (he’s still not over Nix having to go and his betrayal via urine). So I said, “Well let’s just bring J to the humane society to see the puppies and kitties.” (Side note, I remember going as a kid and it was just fun to see all the animals and what not. Now that I’m a socially conscious adult, I just get immediately depressed to see all those cats without homes. I hope I didn’t traumatize J.) Sunday comes along and (in a desperate attempt to avoid house work) I finally get H and J out the door and jokingly say, “You know if we see a little girl tortoise shell we’re getting her, right?” (So many jokes that spoke so many future truths…) and H grumbled something about, “No, no cats. We’re just looking.” So then I ask him what’ll happen if we see a little boxer puppy. He didn’t respond.

Fast forward to the humane society. There are no less than THREE tortoise shells, one of which was a two year old female who’s reason for being left was: “No Reason. Owner didn’t want anymore.” Is that not the saddest thing you’ve ever heard?? I almost took her out of there right then and there except H found a little 7 month old tortie that he fell in love with. I pointed out she had an extra toe on each front paw and he thought that was the coolest thing ever. We went in a room and she was not freaked out by J throwing the little jingle balls at her (J has started counting before she throws but she can’t stop at 3, she has to count to 10 then throw, but she tries to count on her fingers…with the little ball in her hand…it’s just funny) and she warmed right up to H and Me. I was still keeping emotionally detached. H kept saying, “Why don’t you hold her? Isn’t she cute? Why don’t you hold her?” This is when I knew we weren’t walking out of that place without this cat. Then he kept playing with her and started talking to a lady there about her history and found out she’d already been spayed (huge bonus in H’s book. He didn’t want to worry about that because it’s too hard on the kitties but he didn’t want to deal with a female in heat. His words: “Funniest damn thing you’ve ever seen but it’s also the most annoying thing you’ve ever heard.”) and had been with her previous owner for 6 months where they had dogs, birds, other cats and 3 and 5 year old kids. So, the cat knew chaos and was ok with it. I guess she was dropped off with two other cats because the owners just had too many pets. Then H starts giving me the eyes and asking, “Can we get her? Please?” I knew I was beat. J loved her, M loved her and I swore then and there to never take either of them to the Humane Society again.

So we put her in a holding kennel and went to look at the dogs (pathetic. So sad.) and H said it was a good thing there wasn’t a boxer or he would’ve put the tortie back. How fickle is man.

And while he was paying for her and I had a quick break from chasing J away from the cat toys and out from under some empty shelf she’d managed to wedge herself into (laughing maniacally while I envisioned sharp screws and bolts stabbing her in the back. I worry too much.) I suggested the name Polly because she’s a polydactyl (that’s what they call cats with extra toes. They’re also called Hemingway cats but as progressive as I am, I couldn’t name my princess Ernest). And thus, Polly was named. If I had oil I would’ve performed an impromptu anointing of Princess Polly just to mess with the humane society people.

Polly

So, we have a little girl kitty and I’m super thrilled. As hesitant as I was, I was the first to make her purr (score) and she laid next to me first (double score) so I’m happy now. And it sure is nice having a kitty laying in my lap while I watch H play video games again. PLUS, I’m went to Target over lunch yesterday and bought her some cute new food dishes and a food dish mat thing. She is my princess and will be treated as such. (I’m waiting approval from H to buy the red jeweled collar. “You were serious??”)

Update: We LOVE Polly. She follows us around like a puppy, lays down where we tell her to, and doesn’t mew, but chirps. Plus, there’s nothing cuter than a two year old little girl following a kitty around pretending to be a kitty (laying, stretching, scratching her scratch board thing) EXCEPT that same two year old reading the Color Kittens to the kitty.

Reading to Polly

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3 Responses

  1. Wow, what did you do, feed the man crack before going? No, honestly, I’ve been doing all I can to drop my man both obvious and not so obvious (but mostly, obvious) hints about what I want for Christmas. I think the most specific “hint” I gave him (right after oohing and awhing over the cats at petco up for adoption… which I can’t get through reading those animal bios without thinking adopting all 9 cats would somehow be a great idea…) by saying, “If you’re still wondering what I’d like for Christmas, know that I’d be perfectly happy with either a cat or a puppy.” We have one cat already, Chloe, who is a darling and I’m of the impression that she must have a playmate of the animal persuasion. I think the husband is cracking under the pressure though. His normal response to my pleading to get another pet is to list off all the reasons why he thinks it wouldn’t work at the time being. This time, he just gave a hint of a wry smile and said, “oh, you would, would you?” We shall see.

    Anyway–nice blog. 🙂 Now if Polly is ever naughty, or you just feel like messing with her, you can always respond with, “Hello! I am Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare. to. die.”

  2. Anne, it took me way to long to figure out why you were quoting Princess Bride (besides the obvious awesomeness of the movie itself) but then I caught on and it was hilarious! Good luck getting your kitty or puppy. I’ve been hinting and straight up saying, “I want comfy squishy slippers for Christmas” every year we’ve been together and so far five Christmases have gone by with NO new super comfy squishy slippers. Sounds like this may be your year though! 🙂

  3. […] announces she wants the orange one but unfortunatly he’s a boy and you want a girl due to past traumatic male cat ownership. The one kitten who’s jumping around is the one you end up […]

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