When it comes to Ivy the cat, I have to say, I am incredibly lucky. She is a happy cat, relaxed, content, healthy as can be and a delight to have around. She is clearly an extrovert as she loves to be around people and she appears pretty calm around other animals.
After 7 months, she has no doubt of who her adoptive daddy is. I am always here to ensure her needs are met, including a lot of time for play and for chilling together. When I head out the door, she is sad to see me go, even if it is just to put her poop bag in the garbage outside, and she always greets me with open paws when I get home from work.
But every once in a while, she will do a little something out of character that has me asking, “Where did that come from?” Aside from meowing like an ambulance from time to time, she really is perfect in every way which makes a rare quirk easy to disregard, but still makes me very curious as to why.
When she ran into that little feline parasite thing about 4 months ago, I called the Ottawa Humane Society to check into her immunization and treatment history to confirm what else she may require to be completely up to date. At the same time, I had a chance to ask a bit more about her back story from her life as a stray and how long she had been living life “on the streets”.
I teared up to think about little Miss Ivy (currently Queen of this household) living a life of rooting through people’s garbage, looking for shelter, living outside through a winter that seemingly never ended, with no place to call home or a human to call her own to offer her affection whenever she wanted. Who knows how she was able to survive.
I get images of her standing on the street corner, posing by a cardboard recycling bin, with a cigarette in her right paw, seductively meowing to crusty old tomcats, “You wanna date?” just to find warmth and shelter, even if just for a few minutes. How was she able to sustain her catnip habit? Did she have to turn to a life of “pet”-ty crime? It must have been a very dark and lonely life. Continue reading