Ok, three months of being petless (fish that live for two weeks don't count) was enough. At least on a trial basis, I took the cat. I was really considering getting one, operating under the assumption that Pete would rather give me one of his nuts than give up Lloyd. But I figured I had to at least ask first. Lloyd has not been a very happy kitty since C2 moved in and brought four very large (and awesomely sweet) dogs with her. He has only been coming inside to eat. Pete's been going out into the front courtyard to pet him occasionally. The problem is that he has been an outdoor cat for the past six years. There's no way I could let him out here. So this is a test period. I am leaving for Atlanta on Thursday. He'll stay with me until then, and if he seems content with the arraingement, I'm keeping him when they move to Michigan. If he isn't content and we haven't bonded (more on this later) than he'll go back with them and I'll think about adopting a homeless kitty.

No, you weren't missing something when I said I need to bond with a cat I have lived with for seven years. While I've always been an animal lover, I am WAY more of a dog person than a cat person. I have had a total of three dogs and three cats in my life. While I was deeply bonded to all three dogs, the only cat I really had much attachment to was Kira.

Ok, I'm just going to give you the whole chronological story in the order it happened, so as you can see how I never really bonded to Lloyd.

I always wanted a pet growing up. My father refused to let me get one, saying that animals are filthy and people who allow them in their homes are filthy. This is noteworthy as a Dad Fact for two reasons. The first is that he grew up with animals. If anybody has more of a soft spot for critters than I do, it is my grandmother. He had dogs and horses his whole childhood. The second, is that he now has a very small dog who A) is my sister, B) not only is in his home but sleeps in his bed, and C) I have to say hello to on the phone. This is him, not Cindi, who wants me to say hello to Layla. But I digress.

The summer I was twelve I finally got him to relent, and we got Murphy, an English Springer Spaniel. We got rid of Dad about a year later.

When I was fifteen, a cat showed up on our front porch. Yes, Quarters was the one who saw her first, but I was the one who went out and took her in. This was Kira. She was very sweet and cuddly with me while we lived at my mother's house. However once Pete entered the scene, she decided she was his cat. I still had a bond with her, but it grew into a bit of a love-hate thing. I think what it comes down to is we were both alpha females.

Anyhow, my first year in college I missed my pets more than anyone else. I knew I could take the cat (that rodent, as my mom called her) and also wanted Murphy. I was told on no uncertain terms that Murphy was a family dog and thus would be staying at home.

So when I moved off campus and brought Kira, Pete and I decided to get a dog of our own. We got a beagle named Zeke.

About six months later, Pete and his friend Chase brought home an all black kitten. I was not consulted about this. This cat had something seriously wrong with it. Zeke would play with her like she was a toy, and when he approached she'd stare off into space. I seriously think she had out of body experiences. Anyhow, we had her for about a year before she accidentally got out of Wendy and Olivia's apartment and ran away. Pete was really upset for a long time. I felt bad for him.

I happened to be wandering in a mall near a pet store about a month later. Pete was still really mopey. There were people gathered around a window with a whole pile of kittens in it. As much as I abhor mall pet shops, I had to at least check it out. Anyhow, all the kittens were kind of piled up. When I came to the window, a bright orange one walked over to where I was and started pawing at the glass. That was my threshold. I decided to cheer Pete up with a new kitten, and this is how Lloyd came into our home.

Pete liked him, but his real soul mate was Zeke. Those two never left each other for a second. He was Zeke's pet, not ours. And if he wasn't Zeke's he was Pete's, so I didn't really have much to do with him.

So now we had two cats and a dog. We went back to Michigan for the summer. At the same time, my mother had met and fell in love with Bernard over about a week's time. She decided to move to Atlanta to be with him. And by the way, Chasha, I need you to take Murphy.

I was really psyched about getting Murphy back, but at the same time couldn't deal with the thought of four pets. I think in my mind I stopped thinking about the cats at all. I had my two dogs. I could walk them and wrestle with them. The cats were more decorative than anything else. But in a way Lloyd was an honorary dog. He was still Zeke's shadow, so when I'd walk the dogs, he'd come along and keep with us the whole way.

About four years ago, Zeke got hit by a car. Lloyd went through a few months of hiding and hissing at everyone. He got passed it, but never seemed the same after that. Murphy's reaction demanded our attention much more. He had digestive problems and was prone to bloat. When he couldn't find Zeke, he'd get nervous and then get sick. Then we had to dog sit for our landlord. When the other dog was there, Murphy was fine, but as soon as she left he'd get sick again. So we decided to get another dog and got Dizzy.

Lloyd and Dizzy never bonded. I bonded with Dizzy almost immediatly, and I guess almost forgot about Lloyd, who now wasn't home much anyways.

Anyhow, I digress. Kudos if you're still reading this. Lloyd is here now, and hopefully being just me and him will have some sort of effect.

-CRbE