Who is The Crazy Cats Lady?
It All started with a Living Furry Party Favor…
When I was five years old (before I became the glamorous, urbane creature you see today), I lived out in the middle of the countryside. I attended the birthday party of my “Nephew Ian,” who was turning four at the time. Well, that’s already weird, a nephew one year younger than me…but that’s not the least of it.
Ian and I didn’t get along very well because he was always peeing wherever he liked–in our yard, up a tree, near the garage, whatever. So rude! His grandmother (my mother) excused it by saying, “Well…Ian’s a mountain boy…” (He lived at a slightly higher elevation than me, of 2,400 ft. but they DID have indoor plumbing in his home).
So when he came to MY birthday party, Ian decided to showcase his peeing in front of all us little girls, well, not all of us. I only had one friend and she was mortified. She never let me forget about that day for the rest of our lives. “Hey! Remember Peein’ Ian when he pissed on your parade at your fifth birthday party (twenty years ago)!? Ha, ha, ha…” She’d always goad me. Gosh.
But back to Ian’s fateful birthday party when I fell in love with my first cat: Ian’s mom was really clever. Burdened with a new litter of kittens, she was giving away adorable kittens as party favors for all the attendees (whoever’s parents would allow it)! She shoved a very pretty orange tabby baby into my hands as my party favor. Lucky! No need to call my mother. It was a done deal. I’d call his coloring “taffy tabby” now because he was very light orange (like my present-day blonde/orange Sunshine who you’ll meet in “My Furry Family”).
Wait! First I should say that before I got the furry party favor, we already HAD a cat, but she was quite old and cranky. Black and white, Mama Cat was her name, and she had cattitude and she nipped and it HURT, so we weren’t ever besties. I learned early on about the mortality of living things when I was the unfortunate one who discovered Mama dead by the side of the barn. She’d peacefully taken her last breath at 18 years old, probably while stalking a field mouse. I supervised her proper burial by directing my dad where to dig in the garden with a shovel and I laid some uprooted carrots on her grave. This was the first of many feline burials. Then later of course as I entered my “Breakfast at Tiffanies” phase in New York there were the expensive city cremations with fancy overpriced urns.
But I named my “first” little kitten Pooh, after Winnie the Pooh…and we became fast friends and ever since then I’ve had so many four-legged feline friends (and a 3-legged one too: Sameerah who I said goodbye to in 2022). But I can remember ALL the names of all my cats over the years. Now I just have to remember 20+ cat names on a daily basis for my current cat crew.
It’s amazing how much the mind can expand to accommodate calling all these beautiful creatures by name, and I never do forget their names. (Unlike the series of some poorly-chosen boyfriends I’ve had over the years whose names I do easily forget…sometimes even on a date, once they’ve underwhelmed me with some barely disguised dislike of cats). I’ll never forget a first date where the guy proudly stated, “You know, my Jack Russell terrier would eat your cat.” This was not him using seductive, subliminal language to get me into bed. This was him stating fact! That was sort of my cue to hiss and slink off into the night.
Moving on! Below is a picture of pre-teen me with my semi-Siamese “Bebe” back before I discovered cosmetic dentistry and other enhancements. We all have trauma in our childhoods. One of mine was that my ignorant parents didn’t want to pay for Bebe’s vaccinations and my beloved Bebe died at a young age from feline leukemia. I remember the pain of having to watch him be put down at the veterinarian’s office and being told it all could have been prevented. Which, ever since then vaccines always stayed in my mind as being important to do for the kitties.
Fast-Forward to 40-Something (cough!) Years Later…
OK, here’s a picture a few short years ago back when I only had “a few” cats. Before more rescue cats were put into my path by the Universe for me to “not walk away from” and for me to adopt. I think I was being prepped to be a cat mother to so many more babies (but just didn’t realize it at the time).
A good portion of the cats in this photo below are still part of my crew, and represent my “core crew”: Ebisu, Shiloh, Ravi, Prince, Orange-A-Luv, and Tangelo. Shiloh and Ravi are brother and sister + (my princess) Ebisu are still going strong at 16 years+.
And just so you know, the upholstery on those chairs/scratching-posts-made-to-look-like-chairs has been changed about four or more times to the present day. My greedy upholsterer loves my cats for obvious reasons. He once got really upset when he saw the feline nail clippers sitting on the table. 🙂
Why a Crazy Cats Lady Blog and Cat Info Site?
It’s ultimately about sharing that it’s OK to be prolific and catty.
You see, I think there are a lot of other people like me out there: crazy cat men and crazy cat women who feel a kind of shame about the joy of giving a home to multiple cats and having so many furry ones around. It’s like, you really have to be careful who you tell about that part of your life.
There’s a stigma attached to that phrase, “Crazy Cat Lady.” Some cat nay-sayers think that our homes all smell like cat, if you know what I mean… (And OK, I’m often saying to my helper: “…Eeeeks! Where is that spray bottle filled with water and white vinegar and “Fizzion”? Quick! Spritz around before my friends come over, especially on my pant leg…”). Well, what if it DOES smell like cats in my place? It’s part of giving that many kitties a home (but still manageable if you clean four hours a day). But I did end up getting my own much smaller apartment next door, as the cats had a board meeting and told me they’d prefer having their own place.
I can just hear my “ladies who lunch” friends when I step away from the table at the stylish local restaurant. “Oh…did you see? Becca’s black St. John knit suit was so nice when she got it…but now it shows signs of that white Turkish Angora of hers, it’s COVERED…” Yeah? So WTF if it does have a light coating of Dominic’s luxuriant coat? It doesn’t make me less of an elegant person because I happened to rescue a pure breed who sheds white fluff wherever he goes. I get his fur EVEN if I keep that suit in another apartment entirely, in plastic! His fur just floats everywhere, even through the walls!
WE (cat people) are doing something important! WE are in the process of getting some of these sweet babies off the mean streets (especially in cities or countries where the government and general population/the culture doesn’t give a damn about the stray cats, and in some third world nations, to the point of culling them mercilessly and secretly at night when they think nobody’s watching).
And just try describing your caring cat-lady-ness in a digestible way on an online dating profile… Mine reads, “…And if you’re one of the 97% of men who will run away screaming once you find out about my cats, please don’t let the flap on my cat door hit your ass on the way out as you flea…”
Just imagine what kind of romantic action a sneaky man would get if he announced on a dating site that he just “luuuuuvs” cats and he loves the women who love cats and he wants more and more cats in his life. He’d be a busy man–I’d be first in line to get me some of that! But there are a LOT of pictures of men with their dogs (and holding up big fish they’ve caught…what is that about?)….anyhoo…
So this blog is just to give a little wink and twinkle and some camaraderie to the notion of maintaining a micro-shelter. The idea is that we cat carers spend our time and money on multiple rescues as a kind of personal charitable deed. The food, household help, cleaning supplies, time and treats are a considerable investment. While not being a formalized shelter with foundation or charity status, some of us purposely choose to give a home to a small group of cats–those who might not otherwise have one.
Can we save the world of ALL the stray and homeless and troubled cats? No…but with a blog, a platform, with the vast tail of the internet swinging its way into cat-curious peoples’ consciousness… There’s a little something beautiful we can do to spread more cat love and respect around the world.
Long live the cat ladies and cat men of the world who’ve taken in these cats, who love their kitties, who’ve opened their hearts, lives and pocketbooks just a little more to give a few more of them a home…
Kudos to those who are responsibly and consciously setting one more place at the table for a needy kitty or any kind of critter in their home!
All my best,
Rebecca K, the Crazy Cats Lady
Here’s me playing with a slightly larger kitten who’s not a house cat! 🙂
