Frankie
Let me just say that I happily confess to being a crazy cat lady. Now that that's out of the way, here is Frankie's story.
Bill and I had been married a little over two years when I started talking about getting a cat. He wasn't crazy about the idea, but I think he got tired of me dropping hints, so he finally caved. I went to the Humane Society on the Friday after Thanksgiving in 2003. I was just going to "look" because I was fairly certain that even if I found a kitty that I liked, I would have to wait 24 hours to take him home per Humane Society rules.
It didn't take me long to find Frankie (that was his name already.) I was looking for a orange tabby kitten and he was the only orange tabby kitten there! I took him out of his cage (all 2 pounds of him) and he wound his way around my neck, through my hair, pawed at my scarf, all the while purring like a little engine. I fell in love with him then and there.
I went to the front desk with the paperwork from Frankie's cage and when I told them I was interested, they asked if I wanted to take him home that day. That day?! I wasn't ready for that! I didn't have a litter box, cat food, cat toys - I had nothing! But in the battle between heart and reason, the heart won and soon enough, I was toting my little orange haystack in a cardboard carrier out to my car. I stopped at a pet store to get some supplies and then took my new little furry friend home.
Frankie was very curious about his new surroundings. He ran everywhere! He attacked the plants, he did that cute little furry-arched-back side-stepping hop that kittens do when they are scared and trying to act tough. Bill got home, and was tired from long, rough day. He stood in the kitchen with his elbows on the counter and I tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at the little orange furball attacking the plant in the living room. All he said quietly was, "Awwwwwwww." Even he couldn't resist a sweet little kitten.
My little 2 pound haystack
Frankie was fine for a day or two, but then he started sleeping a LOT. I didn't think much of it at first, but then the sniffling came accompanied by wheezing, and when he stopped playing and eating, I knew something was wrong. I drove him to the vet and he slept in my lap the whole way. He was diagnosed with a respiratory infection. They sent us home with antibiotics. A few days later, his condition had not improved - in fact - I think it had worsened. The only way he could breathe was through his open mouth. He couldn't sleep because his mouth would close and he couldn't breathe so he'd wake up. Off we went to the vet again. This time he got a shot and more antibiotics. He was very sick. I brought him home and tried to hold him so he could sleep. At one point, I cried because even though I'd only had this little guy less than a week, I already loved him so much. I stayed up late with him until I couldn't hold my eyes open anymore. I left him laying on the couch and said, "I'm leaving him in Your hands, God." I went to bed.
The next morning I anxiously crept in to check on Frankie. He looked up, tired, and still wheezy, but he was alive and didn't seem any worse. Over the next few days, I kept a close eye on him and he slowly improved. I'll never forget the day he started playing again. I cried happy tears. He was on the mend. God was going to let me keep my little haystack.
So, here it is 6.5 years later, and Frankie is still my special boy. He battled respiratory infections off and on the first few years of his life, and he still has nose whistles, but he's healthy otherwise and very much a momma's boy. Bill says that Frankie and I have a special bond and I don't deny it. In the morning, Frankie jumps in bed and nestles in the crook of my arm, his head touching mine and we lay there and snuggle for awhile. During the day, he's usually in my lap while I'm at my desk, and if he can't find me, he meows LOUDLY until I say, "I'm in HERE, Frankie!" At night, he brings me toys from his toy box and meows to let me know it's time to come and see what he brought. Usually Bill will pause the TV show we're watching and say, "You better go see what you got." I used to get mice (EW!) when we first moved in, but thankfully, Frankie took care of that problem a good while ago.
Frankie is the first furry member of our family and he will always have a special place in my heart. As for Bill - did he ever warm up to the idea of having pets? Well, judge for yourself!
Three peas in a pod - or bed!
Frankie's Photo Album
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| Frankie Reflects... | Snuggled up in a basket of warm laundry. |
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| True love. | Enjoying the fresh air and a moment in the sun. |
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| Vampire cat or starving musician kitty? | Frankie and Monkey (his favorite toy.) |
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| Waiting for mom to finish work so we can play. | Waking up from one of several daily naps. |