I met my cat on a trip to PetSmart in 2009; my now-husband was picking up supplies for his perfect princess, the late lamented Mimi-cat, and I (of course) had to stop in front of the cat cages. That’s where I found Ollie: I carefully touched the glass, making sure not to tap it, and he batted at my fingers. Being a trollop, he showed me his belly and cheeked the glass, and I was smitten. I told my husband about him, and he said, “Why don’t you see if he’s still available for adoption?” Ollie was clearly perfect and bound to be snatched up immediately, so I wasn’t hopeful when I emailed the cat rescue, but to my surprise everyone was too stupid to see that he was the best cat ever, and he was still on offer. I paid his $150 adoption fee immediately.
I still remember that when I went to pick him up, they let him walk around the back of the adoption area; there was another cat confined to a carrier who was yowling its head off, and Ollie went right up to it and sniffed, unperturbed. “Aww, he’s friendly!” I thought, not realizing that he’s actually just a terrible bully. I used to tell my students that Ollie’s nickname was Thug Life because he chose that life; it did not choose him. He doesn’t tend to pick fights, but there’s nothing he enjoys more than staring down another cat while they lose their shit at the sight of him.
He is an incredibly handsome tuxedo gentleman, but he is bad.
He's also a lemon. The dumbest thing I ever did was to not get pet insurance for him, because he is expensive. Here is a non-exhaustive list of ways in which he has attempted to die on me in the last fourteen years:
Developed diabetes. He managed to break the $600 bottle of medication for it, too, but he also like, grew out of having diabetes, so call it a draw.
Fell off the roof while he was getting some sun on the balcony and went missing for a day
Developed hyperthyroidism, then developed a heart murmur from the hyperthyroidism, which meant that we had to throw the whole thyroid out, and wasn’t that expensive.
Got angry because I left town for my parents’ place, so he ate his feelings AND an ibuprofen capsule. That was a thousand bucks
IBS, which requires (expensive) special food and supplements
Kidney disease, ditto
Nasal polyp that led to an unending upper respiratory infection. He’s too old and fragile to do anything surgical about it now, so I have to take him into the bathroom with me every time I shower to try to steam the snot out. It’s exactly as glamorous as it sounds.
My personal favorite: He had a weird lump on one of his nipples that we thought might be cancer, but it actually turned out to be a bacterial infection from one of the other cats trying to nurse from him. Yes, he’s such a lazy asshole that he actually gave up trying to stop her and just let it happen.
And then there’s the fact that every time I take him to the vet, they pull out more of his terrible, terrible teeth. That’s hardly life-threatening, but it does deplete my daughter’s college fund.
That’s okay! I’ll just explain that I loved the stupid cat more than her!
Ollie gives me nothing but trouble and heartache, but you can pry that cat out of my cold, dead hands because he’s a character. One time he escaped from the house (asshole) and came back stinking of some other bitch’s perfume. On the one hand, fuck him, he’s cheating on me! On the other hand, I will tell that story every day until the day I die, and it will never stop delighting me. I hope he continues to bankrupt me for many more years to come.