Happy 4th Birthday, Rory!

Growing up, I was a little obsessed with cats.  Every birthday cake was cat shaped, and there were at least two Halloweens when I painted whiskers on my face.  We had three cats (at separate times) before I was ten, though none of them were especially friendly.  Some family friends, however, had a cat named Locket that followed us around, allowed us to sling her around our necks, and generally put up with annoying children like a champ.  I wanted a Locket real bad.

When I was ten, my parents got a dog, and for twelve wonderful years I was a dog person.  Misty was cuddly, affectionate, and adorable.  But when she had two strokes, we put her to sleep, and my parents went on an already-planned vacation.  Alone in the house, grieving for one pet, I found myself desperate for another. 

IMG_0150The Pouillys lived nearby on a farm.  I used to babysit for their kids, and they always had a barn full of cats and kittens.  On a whim, I stopped by in September of 2011.  There were several cats, but only two three-month-old kittens.  One was white and barely gave me the time of day.  The other was a tabby cat with bright green eyes.  When I picked up him, he snuggled into my arms.  When I put him down, he wound around my legs.  “Keep him safe!” I shouted.  “I’ll be right back!”

IMG_1285I ran to a pet store and bought a carrier, litter box, and food.  I returned for the kitten and drove home with him.  I spent an entire weekend with him so that he would bond to me, and I declared him perfect when he immediately used the litter box without making a single mess elsewhere.  Since I am a Doctor Who fan, I named him Rory.  In the show, Rory the human dies and comes back to life on a regular basis.  In real life, mourning my dog, I hoped that the name Rory would keep my cat alive longer.  Plus it fit into the whole “nine lives” cat thing.

IMG_3060Rory is the perfect cat.  He greets me at the door, follows me around the house, and sits on me whenever possible.  He’s acclimated to several moves, and when I take him to visit friends, he hides for a few hours before losing his shyness and acting like he owns the place.  He gets along with dogs, but not other cats, and he adores humans.

At night, I say, “Let’s go to bed,” and he runs to my room like a genius.  He hides under my dresser while I get ready, but as soon as I get in bed and turn out the light, he jumps on me and curls up on my chest.

IMG_4015In the morning, he sleeps as long as I do.  If I wake up at 6:00, he’s up at 6.  If I wake up at 11:00, he’s up at 11.  Sometimes I’ll half wake up, at which point he stands, walks toward my face, and sits beside me.  He stares down at me, but if I don’t move for a couple minutes, he returns to my side and lays down again.

He’s my perfect cat, and I’m so glad I found him.  Today he is four years old, and I’m going to spoil him by taking a nap and letting him snuggle with me.

…Maybe I am spoiling myself.  That’s the great thing about Rory!  We love the same things.



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