I don’t know if I ever shared this, and Kim just shared Data’s adoption story. AND, I realized this month is five years since I adopted Olive (or Ol, Ollie, Olliejandro).
I always wanted a cat growing up. I love cats, and loved cuddling with my friends’ cats. But my mom hated cats, so I never got one. When Robert and I moved into our first apartment, the landlord didn’t allow cats, so I still could not reach Cat Lady status.
In 2007, my best friend Genevieve adopted a kitten who they named Chewie (her daughter named her that because she kept sneezing – “a choo”). I always liked Chewie and thought she was adorable and threatened to steal her from Gen.
When Gen got pregnant with baby #2, Chewie didn’t handle it so well, and started going outside of the litter box, all over the house. Not really something you want to deal with when you have two little ones who play on the floor, crawl, etc. Knowing how much I wanted a cat, and how much I liked Chewie, Gen asked if I wanted to adopt her. Around this time, Robert was off at boot camp and I was living alone. We hoped that she would stop going outside of her litter box if her owner(s) were able to give her more attention. I had lots of attention to give at that point.
Even though our landlord didn’t allow cats, we had been good tenants, and I played the “my husband is gone at boot camp” card, and he allowed it without pushback. Gen brought her over and she was a little shy at first, but she quickly warmed up. (I’ve noticed she’s come out of her shell over the years and isn’t as shy in new places or around new people.) And I eventually renamed her, settling on Olive because 1) I like olives and 2) to me it was a cute name.
We noticed recently that she can tell my footsteps in the hallway outside of our unit when I’m coming home. Robert got home before me one night, and she scampered over to the door and started meowing while I was walking down the hallway toward our unit, before I even put the key in the door. She must have heard my steps approaching. (She doesn’t do that for Robert.) Of course I’m the one who feeds her, so that might have something to do with it. But still, it’s kind of eerie that she knew it was me.
Being my Lil Coach
Watching the birdies
Snugglin’ under blankies
Guests who have alleriges
Being in her carrier
Someday if we have a bigger place (that has a spot for two litter boxes), we might get a second cat. And maybe a dog. And my husband has always wanted a scorpion. But for now, we just have Ollie.