Welcome to Flea Bottom

“A house without a dog, a cat, or a little child is a house without joy or laughter. ”
– Scottish proverb

via Daily Prompt: Lurch

For 13 years I have been living with a cat. Her name is Nádia, and she is a grey tabby and the cutest, fluffiest, loving, sadistic cat. I love her so much that sometimes I don’t know what to do with that love besides letting her sleep on my head and let her be a spoiled brat (things aren’t looking good for me as a parent).

I have a very close relationship with her (if she has with me, that’s up for discussion, although she looks for me and sulks when I’m away). She was the heat of a living creature all those years I was lonely, the company and the one that craved my attention when I needed it the most.

When I lived with my parents she would roam through the neighborhood’s gardens. She would hunt, and sleep on roof tops. When she got older she would just go out in the morning and then sleep all day. Sometimes I would go out to work and come back home to her still sleeping in the same spot.

When I (finally) moved out, I went to an apartment. I really pondered if I would take her with me, since I would be removing her from her home and taking away her outside freedom. I was selfish and took her with me, justifying it with the fact that she needs medication for her allergies and that she was used to a lot of pampering and sleeping with people, which was not going to happen with my parents.

I think that she adapted well, even though I still struggle with the decision. She would sleep so much that I decided it was time to shake things a bit and get her a company. Havoc was bound to happen.

We got another female cat at a shelter. I was selfish again. A male would probably be better, diplomacy wise, but I like females better, so I decided to start the Game of Thrones at our house. To add more troubles I decided a young cat would be better than a baby, because I was in no mood to get a fluffy kitten that would turn out to have a devil’s personality.

We found Shanti. A black and white cat with big paws and short bravery. She is like a cat-dog. She’s the sweetest, she licks our skin, she’s farts like hell, and she’s all about the food. Also, she’s scared of Nádia like I am of Viserion right now. In her defense, Nádia has, on more than one occasion, including today, beat the crap out of her. One time I was the crazy cat lady trying to separate the fight at midnight, using my words. Trust me, words don’t work on fighting felines.

Nádia has settled her ground. When she wants to be with us Shanti’s better get out of the way. This has caused Shanti to perform several episodes of lurching and cross the house in less than three seconds just to escape the older beast.

I have many dreams, one is that one day we will all be able to sit on the couch watching series and movies. I doubt it will be in time to watch Game of Thrones before the end of the series.

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