On a recent work trip, I feel in love with a sweet kitty. My last cat, Ralph, passed away last year from old age and I swore I would never own one again. But this little orange love-ball sauntered right up to me when I called it and insisted I pet him endlessly. I noticed his back paw seemed a bit injured but he was not limping.
Fast forward, I get home and explain the story to my guy.
He knows me.
He finally says, “if you can catch that cat (my office was going back to the location again the next day for the final day of training) then we can keep it. It will be an inside/outside cat though.”
(me smiling)
As I left the house the next morning my guy commented, “Why are you carrying a backpack?”
I responded, “Duh. I could not fit the cat food in my purse.”
I think he suddenly realized, we were about to get a new cat, having previously underestimated my diligence.
My office loaded into two vans and drove the 30 miles again the next day.
I could not focus in the meetings. I kept sneaking out to walk the campgrounds and look for my cat. Finally my co-workers got in on the gig, and soon we saw a little orange furbaby bouncing toward us. I spoke to a camper nearby who said he had been feeding the little guy and mentioned his foot.
Today kitty was really limping. His back paw was NAS-TEE. I have no idea what happened but it was bloody and looked a bit smashed and infected. I scooped kitty up and he never even attempted to claw me, even when I manipulated the foot a little. He happily rode in my lap and slept the whole trip home.
I took to him my vet friend and there he stayed for over a week. He almost lost a few toes, but he is now (almost) good as new and the sweetest, funniest little guy ever.
And he spends WAY more time inside than out, because my boyfriend is just as in love with Steve as I am. So I guess I just wanted to brag on my awesome kitty!
I’m a dog person, but I like cats, too–especially orange cats–and cats always seem to love me. A friend in college had a cat that looked a lot like your Steve, but he was kinda wild and would “playfully” (but painfully) bite and scratch anyone who held him. Except me–I was the only one who could get him to relax be calm while being held.
Anyways, Steve is a lucky cat–good job in getting him patched up and giving him a home!
My folks got a cat in a similar manner. My dad drives a lot between Topeka and Kansas City, for a car dealership, and on one trip to a dealer he heard a cat crying from a lot next door. A cat had got caught in some debris behind a vacant restaurant, so Dad reached in and freed it.
Mom was with him. The next day, out of the blue, Dad tells Mom, “let’s go back to KC and see if that cat is still around.” It was, and acted hungry, so they brought it home and now, thirteen years later, they still have it.
May your Steve have as long and wonderful a life as Princess has.
Steve is beautiful! And what a lovely story. I’m a cat person who has never gone in search of a cat–they always seem to find me at the same time I’m needing a feline friend. Probably a self-fulfilling prophecy, but I won’t argue it.
I have an orange kitty myself (Charlie) who came to me when his feral mother rejected him. His tail is bent at a 90 degree angle–tail bones broke either during his birth or shortly thereafter. He’s a big old ball of love now, and I thank kitty karma for bringing us together.
I wish you and Steve years and years of belly-nuzzling, purry cuddling–few and infrequent hairballs. Thanks for rescuing him!
My step-son names all the oddest stuffed animals, bendable-toys, whatever, ‘Steve’. But he says it in a real low-to-high sing-songy voice; it’s not just Steve, it’s “StuuuEEEEVE?!!?”
Your Stevie is adorable, and I’m glad you found each other. Also that you shared pics Oranges are my favorite, now that we have two. <3
What a kit cutie! I mean a cute cutie! I mean… what do I mean?
The best part of naming a cat after a person is, when you get mad at him, you can use his full name. Make sure to give him a great middle name. It’d be a lot of fun to bellow out “STEVEN MCKITTYPANTS (your lastname)! *Why *is this dead bird in our bed!?”
His full name seems to be Steven J. Cheddarbits, but mostly I find myself calling him Stevie Nicks, or Steve Martin. Or the occasional Smelly Cat, or Smelly Pants, or just Smelly. Given his feline wrecking ball capabilities with our chess set, we considered re-naming him Demo(lition)…but he is a true Steve.
Ironically, he does not smell bad.
To further the story, Last November I spotted an adorable (aren’t they all) orange kitty on the patio. As soon as he saw me he bolted. I was appalled at his manners, but decided the skinny guy needed food. I put some out but I was not sure kitty would ever return. I caught a glimpse of him a few days later, and to clarify that raccoons were not being well fed, I put out a game cam of my guy’s. A few pics of kitty, a kitty bed later and I had the guy showing up for breakfast and dinner. I even paid a kid to feed Oliver (feral kitty’s new name) while I was on vacation.
Oliver is truly wild and will at best, let me get about 10 feet from him and only when I have food. I had seen other cats sneak onto our patio and poor Oliver was terrified. They would hiss at him and he would be gone.
When Steve came to live with us, we thought for sure, Steve would intimidate Ollie and he would leave forever. But after several weeks of Steve being inside the house and batting at Oliver though the glass door. We let Steve out, not knowing Oliver was in the back yard, one day. They were skeptical of each other, to say the least, but since then, on Steve’s trips outside, they seem to play and run around together.
Oliver also seems much more at ease and hangs around a lot more. He sits outside and stares in the house at his “twin on the inside”.
Oranges are my favorite, now that we have two. <3