This blog is about my cat, Kiwi. In my opinion I am living in a Love/Hate relationship with the worlds worst behaved cat. But first, let me tell you how I came about owning my little devil.
The way I came about finding my precious little cat was while I was eating breakfast in McDonald's (of all places, I know). I had just moved out on my own for the first time and was missing having a furry critter to keep me company and spoil. The table next to me had a newspaper someone had left behind so I picked it up to entertain myself while eating. I was looking in the classified ads and there it was:
Cattery Closeout: Bengal Adults and Kittens, Low Prices, Must Go, Getting Out Of The Breeding Business. This was my chance!! I could finally afford a breed of cat that I had always wanted. The drive was to Nashville on a stormy day of course, we ended up at the wrong house, but finally found the right place. He was the last kitten left and I hastily paid the man what he wanted and claimed my pride and joy. He rode home sooo well in my lap, sleeping the whole time. And during those couple of hours home, I thought "He is an angel and I can't wait for the future with this cute little bundle of fur." Boy, was I wrong.
Well, when I got him home....he freaked. He started running around meowing.....and meowing....and meowing. This went on for hours until it got unusually quiet. Then I freaked. I couldn't find him ANYWHERE! I went outside almost in tears looking for him, turning everything upside down. I finally found him curled up behind the refrigerator by the heating coil. PHEW!
The next couple of weeks were hell for us both. He meowed non-stop for I would say at least 2 to 3 weeks straight. I had read that Bengals were vocal, but this vocal?? I called my mom worried that something was wrong with him and what to do (she worked at a vets office) and she said he will get over it. Well eventually he did, thank goodness. So we were past the introductions and being scared and he started settling in. Then came the dilemma of what to name him. A few consideration were Mowgli, Loki, Lestat, Hector, etc. I couldn't decide!! Nothing seemed to match his personality, so in the mean time I nicknamed him "wee kee" Wee-as in little and Kee-as in Kitty. That somehow turned into Kiwi and unfortunately he started answering. So there I am stuck with a fruity name for my male cat. :-/
My first problems with Mr.Kiwi arose when he started peeing outside of his litter box. I finally got the hint that my little man couldn't make it to where his litter box was located in time, so I had to move it into the bedroom and problem fixed. Next came the day he went in for neutering. Somehow his healing process went wrong and the poor guy lost circulation to his scrotum and it started to rot :-/, horrible I know. So now he kinda has a weird looking backside shall I say.
Since then, we have moved 3 times. Settling in well at every place. Between the constant knocking off stuff on top of the refrigerator, stealing chicken out of the sink, peeing on the side of his litter box instead of squatting, leaving niblets of food that he refuses to eat, putting his food in his water, escaping outside, meowing when he doesn't have his way, peeing on no no zones to prove his point, learning tricks to impress, being a mans cat when owned by a woman, losing a kitty sister, having 5 different dog friends, pissing off my mother, pawing my leg when I turn to walk away from him, jumping in the shower and knocking the curtain down, being waay too active waaay to early in the morning, being the clumsiest cat ever, never cleaning himself like a cat should, tearing into food product bags and eating the contents (seriously, cats dont like coconut snowballs cakes), opening doors and cabinets, doing everything possible to make me think....why in the world did I get you?? Somehow, someway though I still love him.....and hate him....and love him....and so on.
So that's Kiwi's kinda short story of existence so far. More stories to come....for all cat lovers and haters.
