Life with Hemingway and Fitzgerald

IMG_4764^^ They keep my outrageously small bed cozy. ^^

It’s afternoons like these, when Fitz is asleep on the scratching post and Hem has finally wore off all her energy and knocked out on the couch, that I just look around and think, how did I get lucky enough to be these cats’ mum? Then I usually think, you need to stop having so many conversations with your cats, but then decide against it because they’re good listeners and seem to have very excellent suggestions when I’m in a pickle.

There was a moment when I first got the cats, and we were all driving home in silence in the pouring rain from Simi Valley, that I was sure I’d made a huge mistake. I mean, I’d had cats in the past but taking care of two on my own! What if they got hurt? What if they got sick? What if they hated me forever and never came out from under my couch? That’s the panic stage I believe every pet parent goes through and I assure you, it passes. Soon enough you’ll have two purring fluff balls stepping all over your laptop and insisting they accompany you all around the house as you go about your day.

A typical day in our household starts with me opening my eyes to find Fitz sleeping on my chest and Hem running around the house like a mad woman. Then Fitz lets out a series of meows to get me up and to the kitchen because it’s breakfast time and so help him, he is not going to miss a meal on account of me going back to sleep. Then the cats go about reading the great texts of those they were named after, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway, and I head out to YouTube Nation to dance and wear animal costumes and generally be an adult. Then they make me dinner, we kick up our feet and watch some Miss Fisher’s Mysteries, and call it a night. It’s quite glamorous but then again, what else would you expect from a cat lady?

Rescuing the cats was one of the best decisions I ever made. Living on my own, it’s a pleasure to have two happy, cuddly faces to come home to and when the day isn’t so good, just having them around makes everything a little less gray. It’s both a bit crazy and a bit reassuring to know we’ll be a family for the next 16 to 18 years — knock on all the wood and cross all your fingers. That means we’ll still be cuddling it up when I’m 40! How cool is that?

As for living with cats in an apartment, it’s so much more manageable than I ever imagined. I have one liter box in my bathroom and cleaning it once a day keeps the smell away. I have a mat underneath the box that catches most the liter but I do find myself sweeping the bathroom and around the house — I have wood floor — about every other day. Our apartment is small but the cats never seem to mind as long as their favorite window isn’t blocked and they can still see their favorite friend, Fat Squirrel. I made up a back story for this squirrel but I won’t bore you with those details.

If you’re thinking of adopting, my advice is this: Think carefully about if you’ll able to support a kitten for their entire life. Their medical expenses, their food, the extra rent that might come from owning a pet, it’s all on you. And once you’ve thought good and hard about it, just do it. Open up your home to a furry little friend and live happily ever after. At least that’s what I plan to doing and you know what? It’s working out pretty damn well.

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2 thoughts on “Life with Hemingway and Fitzgerald

  1. Pingback: For Journalists: Real-Life vs. Grad School | The Curious Case of Carly Christine

  2. Pingback: 11 Riskes Every Lady Should Take | The Curious Case of Carly Christine

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