Let me just begin by saying that I am not a writer. In fact, I hate writing with a passion. I just can't do it, which is why this blog will mainly be filled with lots of cat pictures. I think my brain is too jumbled up to form words correctly. Surely that's a thing, right? I'm a psych major, I should probably know brain stuff.
I always grew up with cats, and when I moved away for college in 2009, I couldn't bring my two with me. I was living in a house with a roommate who had a puppy, who was adorable, but I missed having cats. He finally gave in and let me get one, under two conditions; 1) it wasn't a kitten, and 2) it didn't have claws. Well there's no way I was ever going to declaw a cat, so I started stalking shelters looking for the right declawed kitty to bring home. Anyone can tell you that I love all cats, but none of them seemed like a good fit. I eventually I found one and was ready to sign the papers, when I was told I was not allowed because of my age (I was 19 at the time).
I was so upset, but we decided to check out a Petco adoption fair just to look around. Even though I had to get an adult cat, I still loved looking at the kittens because, well, they're kittens. But then I saw a little grey fluffball hiding in the back of a cage I thought was empty. His name was Jack, and the rest of his litter had been adopted and he was all alone. He looked up at me and I burst out laughing because he looked SO MEAN, but I kinda liked it. I asked the coordinator if I could hold him and she let me, and he immediately started purring and fell asleep in my arms. I knew I had to have him, but 1) he was a kitten, and 2) he had claws. Sorry, Reid, this cat was mine. I took him home and he went nameless for a couple days because nothing I came up with suited his looks. I finally came up with Bowser, and it just stuck.
Anyways, as much as I refer to Bowser as "angry" he is NOT. He is the sweetest kitty you will ever meet, and has even converted dog-lovers into Bowser-lovers. He never uses his claws, not even to scratch furniture or play, demands cuddles every morning, and poops dutifully in his box (uh, usually).
Here are a few pictures from his first days home with me:
The picture from his adoption papers. D'awwww.
And a couple cute videos, because AWW.