Back in 2002 I went to a mall pet store to get my mom’s Miniature Poodle, Max, a dog toy as a peace-offering. I was not a fan of Max because I am a big dog person. I grew up with Boxers, Doberman and a German Shepherd.
A couple of years earlier my parents sold our Boxer when we moved to Arizona because they didn’t want fur in their new house (I being a reasonable person, would manage the fur because I see cats & dogs as family members). My mom bought Max with the reasoning being he wouldn’t shed as much as our Boxer would have. Max and I were off to a rough start considering he was a small dog, he was a replacement for MY dog who I missed greatly and my Mom didn’t even ask for our opinion.
Here I am in this pet store looking around and I see these kittens. At the time I was a “dog person” who thought cats were okay. Little did I know this was the start of my life with cats. An employee offered to let me hold a kitten and I was hooked. I no longer cared about the dog toy and I left the store with a $200 kitten. The only problem was that I had to sneak the kitten into the house.
I should mention that months earlier I asked if I could get a cat and was turned down flat. It’s a good thing that my parents never went into my room because that’s where Borgia lived for a couple of months without my parents and brother knowing. Eventually my mom and brother discovered her but didn’t tell my step-dad (he didn’t find out for another month).
Fast forward to today, I have since adopted 2 cats and currently have 4 barn cats. Borgia will be turning 12 years old next month and is still going strong.