The Unexpected Acquisition of Tipi and Tuck

When I lived in New York City four years ago, I didn’t have a huge apartment, so the only occupants that could live comfortably inside my rather meak quarters were me and my two cats. And even that was pushing it. (Thank God, the trash room was very close to my apartment door, as the cat box required frequent cleanings.)

Anyway, now that I live in a much larger house in the suburbs, I thought it might be fun to expand my collection of cats beyond the standard two. And since I’d always gotten my kittens from a rescue agency, I decided this time would be no exception. So with pen and pad in hand, I began perusing Google for the names of local rescue agencies that might have some kittens for adoption. And to my surprise, the procedure for acquiring an animal had gotten much more complex. There were legal papers you had to sign, and certain rules you had to follow, along with a background inspection of your veterinary records.

Who knew rescuing a kitten would require all this paperwork? I mean, I understand why they’re doing it--- they’re trying to protect the animals from people who might want to use them for less-than-ethical reasons. But the whole process made me feel like I was being punished for something before I committed a crime.

Nevertheless, I found an ad on Craig’s List that advertised for a Rescue Service that was having a big pet adoption fair on New Year’s Eve weekend from 1 to 4. So with my paperwork all filled out, I drove the forty-five minutes it took to get to the special facility, only to find out that the times for adoption were listed incorrectly in the paper. Apparently you had to have your kitten all picked out by three o’clock in order to get through all the processing by 4. And even though it didn’t list those particular requirements in the paper, and I happened to get to the agency at 2:50, I was not able to adopt a pet. And to add insult to injury, the women behind the desk made no apology for the mistake in the paper, nor did they seem to care that I drove out of my way to help them provide a nice home for one of their animals.

Disappointed that I wasn’t able to get my “instant kitten,” I went home and searched the Internet again for some shelter that was having open adoptions that weekend. Luckily, there were two in my area that held weekly adoptions on Saturdays at the local pet stores. (Pet Stores apparently no longer sell cats or dogs…they only provide food and accessories for them.) So on Saturday morning, I drove to the first pet store to find my two cats a new companion. But apparently, kittens were a scarcity at this shelter, as they only had mature cats up for adoption that day. And though my heart went out to all those homeless animals, I really had my heart set on a kitten, as I thought a kitten would be much easier to introduce into my current clan than a mature cat.

So off to the next pet store I went, only to find the same sort of situation. There were only mature cats available. And though I looked through the various options, and even played with a few, I still felt a kitten would be my best choice. Luckily one of the girls who worked for the rescue told me that Sunday was the day when most of the kittens were brought in for adoption, while Saturday was mostly for mature cats. Not sure why that was, unless there’s some sort of mass pilgrimage to the pet store after Church every Sunday.

Anyway, I decided to come back the next day to see what kittens might be available, although by this time I was already less than positive about what I might find. That was, until I saw Tipi (not her original name, by the way). And even though I was really looking for a male cat (as I’ve always found them to be much more affectionate), this little girl caught my eye…mainly because of her unusual multi-colored coat. She also had two brothers with her, one black and one grey, but her personality won me over immediately. And as soon as I got her home, I knew I’d made the right choice. She wasn’t upset to be in a new home, and didn’t seem to care that she was no longer surrounded by siblings. In fact, she took to her new surroundings immediately.

One day, while she was purring in my lap, I decided to do some research on her unusual markings, which looked like marble to me. As I was surfing, I came across a website that sold pure breed cats known as Bengals. They are a cross between a Tabby and a wild Asian Leopard Cat, and as you’d expect, many look like little leopards. Some have the famous leopard spots, but some are more marble colored, like Tippy was. As I began finding more and more information about Bengals, I became fascinated not only with their beautiful composition, but also how similar they seemed to the cat I’d just gotten from the local rescue.

To make a long story short, I decided for the first time in my life to purchase a pure breed cat. (Or a pure breed anything, for that matter. No longer will I only be associated with Mutts.) But I didn’t want to get it from a cat farm or puppy mill, or anyone who worked for such a place (even though those animals deserve to be rescued just as much as any other). After some searching and numerous phone calls, I found a breeder that was two hours away who’d had a litter of Bengal kittens with a golden male that was ready for adoption. She had great credentials and raised all the animals in her home, which made me feel like they would probably be somewhat better adjusted to domestic life than a cat born on the streets.

So I made the trip and fell in love with Tuck right away. (Again, not the name given to him by the owner.) And when I brought him home, he and Tipi hit it off right away. And since she was already a month older than he was, she became like his big sister, showing him all the ropes as well as teaching him to groom and wrestle fairly. Luckily, I have caught a lot of these interactions on film, so they will definitely be featured in future episodes of “Cat Clips.” For now, I am just enjoying my happy little zoo.

But that’s just me. Have you ever adopted or purchased an animal before, and how did you feel about the two options?

Creative Quips on Qualifying Quirky Qualities

I have once again been tagged by Roxy of Roxiticus Desperate Housewives to carry out one of her humiliating tasks of self-evaluation and public exposure. I don’t know why she feels it necessary to unload her particular requests upon me, but for some reason I feel the need to comply. After all, the latest “homework assignment” involved publicly revealing my special quirks or idiosyncrasies, as if I had any of those to begin with. To me, this was a big assumption on Roxy’s part, because I personally view all of my personality traits as normal extensions of my being. And should some of my habits happen to be a little different than the average person, I certainly wouldn’t call it a quirk. I think of these individual attributes as “qualities” rather than quirks, but perhaps that’s because I’m just more advanced than some people. (i.e., a certain Desperate Housewife.)

Nevertheless, I will try to assemble what I consider to be some of my most interesting “qualities,” several of which may have been referred to at one time or another as a “quirk.” Certainly not by me, of course, but by other people. After all, aren’t your quirks really pointed out by someone other than yourself? Because without their input, you might think everything you’re doing is perfectly normal. Unless one of your quirks happens to involve strange rituals with pig blood and dead chickens, in which case you might actually be displaying cult behavior rather than a quirk. But I digress.

Another interesting assumption of Roxy’s request was the requirement of listing six different quirks. As if everyone had six basic quirks they could easily assemble at any given moment. Like having six senses, your six quirks were as obvious as your eye or hair color. (The proverbial sixth sense being your ability to see dead people, like Bruce Willis’s career.) But what if you had seven quirks, or a hundred and eight? Or what if, God forbid, you only had two? And you had to make up the rest just so you wouldn’t be embarrassed. Or even worse, what if one of your “quirks” was the fear of actually having to talk about your various quirks? What then, Miss Roxy, what then?

So now that I’ve successfully drawn out my sarcastic introduction to a fourth paragraph, I think it’s time to tackle the issue at hand: the public pronouncement of my most interesting “qualities.” And here they are:

One of the major “qualities” that distinguishes me from the masses is my obsession with anything animated. Disney animated movies are my favorite, but I also like classic Saturday morning cartoons like Scooby Doo and Bugs Bunny, as well as the more artsy Japanese animation from Hayao Miyazaki. I believe that in a former life (if there is such a thing), I probably started out as an animated character. Perhaps a pencil drawing or a sketch on a napkin. (You may even have seen me as a forest animal in “Snow White” or as one of the puppets in “Pinocchio.”) Animation is magical to me. I am literally drawn to the colors, the characters, the stories and the overall feeling that “everything will be all right in the end.” If this is a quirk, I gladly accept it with all the candy-coated optimism such an attribute implies. After all, without optimism we have nothing.

A second quality of mine is that animals love me. I’ve been told by many pet owners that their dog or cat is usually hesitant or fearful around most people, but feel immediately at ease around me. I’m not sure if it’s because I smell like a butcher shop or I remind them of a fire hydrant they once peed on, but I definitely have a kinship with our four legged friends. And I don’t mean in a Horse Whisperer sort of way; more like an understanding of what it’s like to be the underdog. (Literally) My black cat, Trey, who appears in the Cat Clips videos, sleeps by my head every night as if there to protect me.

I’m addicted to chocolate chip cookies and peanut butter. (Not at the same time. Although I have tried mixing them in the past, and rather liked the results. Though my waste and teeth do not.)

I don’t drink coffee unless it has some kind of flavored creamer in it. And I don’t mean the powdered kind, which never really provides the fatty creaminess one requires in their cup of coffee. (For more on my coffee requirements, please refer to My Quest for the Perfect Cup of Coffee)

I sleep in the nude. This isn’t really a quirk. More of an advertisement.

I love the glamour and mystique of Old time Hollywood. From the silent comedies of Charlie Chaplin and Harold Lloyd, to the Film Noir classics of the thirties and forties, to the big MGM musicals of the fifties and sixties, I’m a classic film buff. (I also like movies produced after the sixties, but there is something very special about the older films that I truly appreciate. ) Hitchcock is one of my personal favorites.

And finally, and probably most significantly, my constant need to “create” is one of the driving forces in my life. It doesn’t really matter what form it takes (playwriting, drawing, singing, blog writing, making movies, etc.), as long as it gives me the opportunity to express myself. That is what gives me the most pleasure, and is probably my biggest quirk. Though I think of it as more of a gift. And if others happen to like what I create, that’s just icing on the cake.

But that’s just me. What are your six “qualities” that people might consider quirky?

Bird Bits--Future Star

Please click on the photo above to watch a one-minute video from the "Bird Bits" series entitled "Future Star." In this episode, two male birds discuss the star potential of a singing Bluebird.

What can I say? I have a lot of time on my hands.