Most of my friends know that I have this undying need to help any and everything in sight, especially cats. Last December I was taking down my christmas tree since I wasn’t saying home for the holidays. Since I live in the city and it was before Christmas, I had to take my tree to the county landfill. I packed up my truck, put the tree in the bed, threw my kids (my cats–Dewey, Mi, and Lucy) in the back seat, and I was on my way. Called Ma on the way to the landfill. So here I am chatting way on the phone, I get out to throw away my tree. As I’m tossing it in the big dumpster out pops this little kitten. She runs. Standard. Me being me, I had the “awwwwww look at the kitty!” moment. Being unsupervised, I proceeded to talking to the cat, trying my damnedest to get it to come to me. It thought about it, and then decided to run again. Being that it already had its claws in my heart I chased it. Yes, I am a grown women on a cell phone chasing a kitten at the dump. But never fear, I caught it, to which she immediately replied by trying to kill me. 2.5 minutes and one compliment from a disguising old man later, I was getting an ear full from my mother. “Put the kitten down! What are you going to do with it? Put it back. It’ll be fine.” I didn’t listen as usual. I got in my truck and drove the new (very sick and stinky) bundle of joy home. Once home, my mother realized that the little kitten really was sick and she cleaned poop off its butt. After visiting my ma, I went home home to the place where I actually sleep. When I walked in, I looked at Sunshine and our dialogue went like this:
Me: “Don’t be mad.”
Sunshine: “What is that?”
Me: “Well I found it at the landfill and I couldn’t say no.”
That night after two baths, the little one got some chicken and boy did she love it. She even growled at me when I tried to take the bone away. She was great amusement. I knew I loved her instantly. My cousin and I watched the golden girls and contemplated names for the new one, while the kitten snuggled in my arms.
We settled on Anderson, after a friend of ours. Her name has changed and been added onto in all sorts of forms. The next day we visited the vet. She got shot after shot into her 1.1 pound body. She was given medicine for the next 4 weeks, twice a day. She lived her live in my bathrobe pocket and was only put down to eat and use the bathroom. She traveled with me to Northern Virginia and Key West Florida.
Soon she got her health back, minus her eye. She still has a messed up eye. She began to grow into her personality. After a while I realized that she was just like me. Fierce and adorable. Nice to you but knew when to cut you deep. She is happy, love to cuddle, and begs for your attention (and your food) in the kitchen. She is insanely jealous when new animals enter the house. She only likes one other person, and I think she only like him because she likes the smell of his dip. Go figure, but just like a child she plays favorites between my roommate, Baller, and me.
So here’s to Anderson, Andy, Nasty, Bean Bean, whatever you want to call her. Today is one day since I rescued her and tonight she’s getting chicken!