Today at the church we’ve been attending for a few weeks, the service was dedicated to the Blessing of the Pets. People brought their animals in, and there were speakers who all told stories of how they got their dogs and cats, and what their animals meant to them.
In honor of that, I want to do a post for each of my kitties. First, Loki, our big, fat cat.
We decided to get a cat in 2003. Really, we wanted to have a baby, but we were young (I was only 22), and we were still poor college kids in school full time. Having a baby didn’t seem very practical.
So we went to the pound to look at cats. There were a section for kittens that had four or five adorable cats. I zeroed in on a little gray one in the back. It looked like the sweetest little thing, was incredibly soft, and just seemed like magic. When we headed back up to the front to ask if we could hold her, a feisty little orange ball of fur reached his paws out and batted at us.
When we got to the front, we asked to hold the orange one instead. He seemed like he really wanted us, and he was cute and tiny and we wound up adopting him. We named him Loki, after the Viking god of mischief… it turns out that the name was pretty appropriate.
I have since nicknamed him ‘The Beast’, as well as some choice swear words. Loki turned out to be a pretty aggressive cat. Over the years, we have figured out the things that make Loki mad. They include (but aren’t limited to): bare legs, toes, Democrats, prayer, missionaries, people, kindness, other races, and being on a diet.
Things that he loves include: Kullervo, cardboard, tampons, and biting.
He’s really an awful cat, and we just love him.
Now, the entire time that we’ve had him, Loki has wished he could be outside. We’ve lived in quite a number of places, and if he could, Loki would run outside of all of them and hide outside. I suspect that he looks back on the first few weeks of his life, living on the rough, tough streets of Tallahassee, Florida, and thinks that if we hadn’t held him back, he could have been a jungle predator.
Nowadays, he spends most of the day outside of our Chicago apartment, stalking the neighborhood. He’s much happier for it, although I warn my neighbors that he can be mean and to please stay away. Everyone tells me that he’s just the sweetest thing though, and that they don’t believe me that he could ever be mean.
I love The Beast with all my heart, and for all the ways that he drives me crazy, he was our first pet, our first long-term investment in our future (you know, besides the wedding and stuff).