The Cat that Doesn't Hang With Me Wins the Award

An award is usually because the receiver has done something outstanding or is in some way deserving of recognition. In my home, cum office setup, the winner of this honour is our cat Blacksie aka, Blacks.

That's not her real name, it’s Karie. My two daughters are big Anime fans and named Blacks and her sister for characters they adored. Kari and Amie. I was always getting their names mixed up, so I ended up calling them after their colours. Blacks because she’s black and Leo because she’s striped like a lion - to me anyway.

According to my office criteria, Blacksie is the paws down winner for Empawyee of the month and year. Like many of you, when the pandemic hit, my employee had us pack up our computers and desk and login from home. And home is where I’ve been working since last year.

My Office

After several moves throughout the house, I settled my office in my bedroom. During the day the dog, I call him puppy, is with me. Always. Leo, our cat is always with me. Except for her brief sojourn to the sunroom or a couch to torment her sister. Snowy, our white cat hangs out in my bedroom office as well. He usually sits on the stair ledge, purring as loud as a 747.

An award is usually because the receiver has done something outstanding or is in some way deserving of recognition. In my home, cum office setup, the winner of this honour is our cat Blacksie aka, Blacks.

That's not her real name, it’s Karie. My two daughters are big Anime fans and named Blacks and her sister for characters they adored. Kari and Amie. I was always getting their names mixed up, so I ended up calling them after their colours. Blacks because she’s black and Leo because she’s striped like a lion - to me anyway.

According to my office criteria, Blacksie is the paws down winner for Empawyee of the month and year. Like many of you, when the pandemic hit, my employee had us pack up our computers and desk and login from home. And home is where I’ve been working since last year.

After several moves throughout the house, I settled my office in my bedroom. During the day the dog, I call him puppy, is with me. Always. Leo, our cat is always with me. Except for her brief sojourn to the sunroom or a couch to torment her sister. Snowy, our white cat hangs out in my bedroom office as well. He usually sits on the stair ledge, purring as loud as a 747.

When I’m sitting at my desk from 10:30am to 8pm puppy and Leo are cavorting on my bed. Either their asleep at the head, where I need to put my head or their prancing around, dropping fur over every surface on my blanket. And when that gets old, puppy is in his crate under my desk, while Leo is in her chair beside my desk.

It’s all very cute isn’t it?

It’s also why these three are the clear not winners for this contest. My criteria for winning is the one that isn’t always on my bed, at my feet, or purring down the house with his mouth wide to project that purr as far as he can.

My two shadows, puppy and Leo, might start the night at the foot of my bed, but by the time the alarm rings at 7:30 am, she’s at my head licking my face and pushing her nose into me. You’re giddy with the cute. Me? I can’t breathe.

Blacksie, that champion, doesn’t push her face into mine at any time throughout any day. She will occasionally step into my lap for a brief cuddle and then she's gone. Whether that’s to schlepping to my 19 year old’s room to hang out on her bed, or to cuddle her love Snowy, she’s not in my space on a regular basis.

And that’s why she wins.

We used to have a Fig, a tiny no furred hippo, but he died tragically when a visitor, unknown to us, left a window open next to his cage. With no fur to keep him warm Fig died. That was over a year ago and we still him miss him. But if Fig were alive? He’d have won outright because in a house filled with fur, no fur wins every time.

Puppy sheds. Puppy sheds non-stop

Oh Puppy is adorable. With his little fox face and deep brown eyes. They do get expressive when he wants something, be it a treat or a long walk. Puppy knows how to work those eyes. But cute isn’t one of my criteria.

You see, I’ve come to hate fur. Because it’s everywhere. It's on my clothes, in my hair and it covers the floor. Now, I’ve got a Dyson, but even that baby has developed an aversion to fur. I know this because it's stopped picking it up. Don't tell me to use the broom. I do. Know what the broom does? It wafts that fur up into the air. Allows it to float into every space it can find, to cover my desk, and floor.

That’s the price for the privilege of sharing your home with animals, right? We get their love, but sometimes they have fur. True. But I have asthma. All the time. Inhaling fur means tossing out a hacking cough that sounds like a chronic forty-year smoking habit. I sound like I’m coughing out a lung.

Know who doesn’t kick up fur everywhere she walks? My 17yo daughter. She for whom the puppy was acquired. She who keeps her door firmly shut and is fastidious about not allowing Puppy into her room except occasionally. And who then vacuums up any fur that puppy may have left behind on his contained visits for play and cuddles.

How Puppy came to live with us

Let me say, I am not a dog person.

When my (now) 17yo was a young’un, she begged mom and dad for a dog. The answer was always no. Because we knew a dog would eventually, inevitably end up with Mom and Dad as primary caregivers. And I never fancied walking behind a dog and picking up poop. Had enough of that when my kids were babies. When they started keeping their own bums clean, I rejoiced.

As for their dad, my then-husband now ex, he was anti-animals of every kind. He’d caved to Snowy because Snow was a rescue from a litter of feral cats. If we hadn’t taken him in, the cat would’ve had nowhere else to go. Both my daughters loved him up, but my (then) 8yo was smitten.

She showered him with love and care. Carrying through the house in her baby sling - the one I’d carried her and her sister in. He allowed her to adorn him in hats, tutus, and dresses. Snow was her love and joy and he loved her. He acquiesced to the baths, the silly hats, the photo shoots with the most stoic and resigned expression.

Seeming to know it meant a great deal to his young friend he allowed her to put a harness on him as he took on the role of surrogate dog.

Snow became her forever companion, until “forever’s” expiry date came rushing up.

Mom and dad divorced two years after the cat moved in. It wasn’t a conscious uncoupling. According to the presiding judge, it was the most bitter divorce she had ever seen. Sure it was a tough, expensive divorce. But the most bitter and acrimonious? Maybe what she meant was I wasn't caving fast enough to the demands of my ex's extremely high-priced lawyer.

Alas, she found ways to punish me for my refusal to lie down and play dead. She gave my ex sole ownership of our beautiful house. And then she gave him our girls. Not to worry, I eventually got them back. Not the house, the girls. I never again stepped foot in my house after I lost it.

I'll just say I was a black woman fighting a white guy in a white court, it didn't go in my favour.

I lost everything and ended up homeless and in an abusive relationship. Ahh, well. Those are stories for another day. But my two girls suffered. They developed anxiety and at 10 and 12 years old while living with their dad they engaged in risky behaviours.

The ten-year-old started chatting with older men online and even set up a meet with one in person. I learned all this later. Thankfully she didn't follow through. My twelve-year-old met random boys and brought them home to dad’s house. All I could do was beg the court to force my ex to watch them more carefully. If you think this got me labeled as an overprotective mom you win.

After two years I was back in my own home and the girls while on a visit with me refused to return to their dad. He’d only had temporary custody so they could make this decision. Besides, the Children’s Aid Society in our country (CAS) was fine with this. They informed my ex by letter that they supported this decision. Dad finally accepted it and delivered Snow to our home cat litter and all.

I know it's a lot but stay with me. Of course, all this trauma would have consequences which I’m still working through with them in 2021. Back then, their therapist recommended a support dog, and voila, we had a dog.

The first three years while he was still a little thing, my youngest loved taking him out for walks and training. Like the cat, she dressed him up in hats and all manner of little costumes. I didn’t have the funds for professional training. Eventually, his barking and lunging at other dogs added to her anxiety and soon her dog became my dog.

Which, I knew all along was a possibility. We had a big back yard and she trained him there. I took him out to the dog park and worked with him on interacting with other dogs. A few sessions at doggie daycare also helped and today he’s my great little boy.

Add two more cats

Let it be known that I am a sucker for lost causes. If there’s a bright beautiful modern house and an old run-down money pit with good bones. Oh yeah! I’m team money pit all the way. Because if I don’t love it, who will? As a matter of fact, got my eye on one now.

Snowy had a companion. But she had died and he was lonely. Every day my youngest searched Kijiji, showing me photos of the kitties that Snow could befriend.

“Oh, that’s so cute. No.”

Until the hard-luck case of Blacksie and Leo. Two baby cats whose humans needed an immediate solution due to some long-forgotten reason. The humans were desperate and we had a good-sized house. I drove two hours, picked up the cats, and just like that we had three cats and a dog.

The girls, Blacksie and Leo were inseparable, always snuggling and playing. Snow adopted them and became a cat mom. Everything was great until last year. Guess, the pandemic changed things for them too.

But last year, Snow and Blacks paired up and left Leo on her own. You could feel the tension. I don't speak cat but I could see the estrangement from her sister hurt Leo. She looked sad and lonely. Then a couple of weeks ago she ran away. Which is a whole other story that I did write.

We searched for that cat. Posted brochures and finally went house to house. We created a QR code so people could see her immediately on their phones in glorious colour. There were sightings from security cameras, phone calls, and texts. Each new piece of information refined the search grid.

The girls went to visit their dad and puppy and I kept stuffing mailboxes for five days straight. Every evening after work we headed out. Two hundred flyers later I closed the mailbox on another fruitless flyer, turned around, and there she was.

Puppy started yapping and Leo snuggled him then plopped down on her belly rolled over. And like that the search was over. She climbed onto my right shoulder and the three of us went home.

Maybe she was never that far away. It’s possible she’d been following us all along. I don’t know. Now that she’s back, she hangs with puppy. And they both follow me everywhere I go.

They both sleep in my bed and leave fur everywhere I rest my head.

My youngest daughter who no longer looks after the dog informs me that I could close my door. She tells me the animals have their own beds and will be fine sleeping without me.

Puppy has only known us since he’s a baby. He’d be lonely, I tell her. As for Leo, she needs me. She needs to have someone love her up. So, I can’t close my door.

My babies need me

I wish I could reduce the fur. Until then, I’ll do the best I can to corral it with daily laundry and allergy pills. Not to mention my inhalers that are on constant alert.

Congratulations Blacksie! You’re the winner because you don’t fur my entire workspace. I appreciate that.

When I’m sitting at my desk from 10:30 am to 8 pm puppy and Leo are cavorting on my bed. Either they're asleep at the head, where I need to put my head, or they're prancing around, dropping fur over every surface on my blanket. And when that gets old, Puppy is in his crate under my desk, while Leo is in her chair beside my desk.

It’s all very cute isn’t it?

It’s also why these three are the clear not winners for this contest. My criteria for winning is the one that isn’t always on my bed, at my feet, or purring down the house with his mouth wide to project that purr as far as he can.

My two shadows, puppy and Leo, might start the night at the foot of my bed, but by the time the alarm rings at 7:30am, she’s at my head licking my face and pushing her nose into me. You’re giddy with the cute. Me? I can’t breathe.

Blacksie, that champion, doesn’t push her face into mine at any time throughout any day. She will occasionally step into my lap for a brief cuddle and then she's gone. Whether that’s to schlepping to my 19 year old’s room to hang out on her bed, or to cuddle her love Snowy, she’s not in my space on a regular basis.

And that’s why she wins.

We used to have a Fig, a tiny Skinny pig, who tragically died when a visitor, unknown to us, left a window open next to his cage. With no fur to keep him warm Fig died. That was over a year ago and we still miss him. But if Fig were alive? He’d have won outright because in a house filled with fur, no fur wins every time.

Puppy sheds. Puppy sheds non-stop

Oh Puppy is adorable. With his little fox face and deep brown eyes. Oh they do get expressive when he wants something, be it a treat or a long walk. Puppy knows how to work those eyes. But cute isn’t one of my criteria.

You see, I’ve come to hate fur. Because it’s everywhere. It's on my clothes, in my hair and it covers the floor. Now, I’ve got a Dyson, but even that baby has developed an aversion to fur. I know this because it's stopped picking it up. Don't tell me to use the broom. I do. Know what the broom does? It wafts that fur up into the air. Allows it to float into every space it can find, to cover my desk, and floor.

That’s the price for the privilege of sharing your home with animals, right? We get their love, but sometimes they have fur. True. But I have asthma. All the time. Inhaling fur means tossing out a a hacking cough that sounds like a chronic forty year smoking habit. I sound like I’m coughing out a lung.

Know who doesn’t kick up fur everywhere she walks? My 17yo daughter. She for whom the puppy was acquired. She who keeps her door firmly shut and is fastidious about not allowing puppy into her room except occasionally. And who then vacuums up any fur that puppy may have left behind on his contained visits for play and cuddles.

How Puppy came to live with us

Let me say, I am not a dog person.

When my 17yo was a young’un, she begged mom and dad for a dog. The answer was always no. Because we knew a dog would eventually, inevitably end up with Mom and Dad as primary caregivers. And I never fancied walking behind a dog and picking up poop. Had enough of that when my kids were babies. When they started keeping their own bums clean, I rejoiced.

As for their dad, my then-husband now ex, he was anti-animals of every kind. He’d caved to Snowy because Snow was a rescue from a litter of feral cats. If we hadn’t taken him in, the cat would’ve had nowhere else to go. Both my daughters loved him up, but my (then) 8yo was smitten.

She showered him with love and care. Carrying through the house in her baby sling - the one I’d carried her and her sister in. He allowed her to adorn him in hats, tutus, and dresses. Snow was her love and joy and he loved her. He acquiesced to the baths, the silly hats, the photo shoots with the most stoic and resigned expression.

Seeming to know it meant a great deal to his young friend he allowed her to put a harness on him as he took on the role of surrogate dog.

Snow became her forever companion, until “forever’s” expiry date came rushing up.

Mom and dad divorced two years after the cat moved in. It wasn’t a conscious uncoupling. According to the presiding judge it was the most bitter divorce she had ever seen. Sure it was a tough, expensive divorce. But the most bitter and acrimonious? Maybe what she meant was I wasn't caving fast enough to the demands of my ex's extremely high-priced lawyer.

Alas, she found ways to punish me for my refusal to lie down and play dead. She gave my ex sole ownership of our beautiful house. And then she gave him our girls. Not to worry,I eventually got them back. Not the house, the girls. I never again stepped foot in my house after I lost it.

I'll just say I was a black woman fighting a white guy in a white court, it didn't go in my favour.

I lost everything and ended up homeless and in an abusive relationship. Ahh, well. Those are stories for another day. But my two girls suffered. They developed anxiety and at 10 and 12 years-old while living with their dad they engaged in risky behaviours.

The ten-year-old started chatting with older men online and even set up a meet with one in person. I learned all this later. Thankfully she didn't follow through. My twelve-year-old met random boys and brought them home to dad’s house. All I could do was beg the court to force my ex to watch them more carefully. If you think this got me labeled as an overprotective mom you win.

After two years I was back in my own home and the girls while on a visit with me refused to return to their dad. He’d only had temporary custody so they could make this decision. Besides, the Children’s Aid Society in our country (CAS) was fine with this. They informed my ex by letter that they supported this decision. Dad finally accepted it and delivered Snow to our home cat litter and all.

I know it's a lot but stay with me. Of course, all this trauma would have consequences which I’m still working through with them in 2021. Back then, their therapist recommended a support dog, and voila, we had a dog.

The first three years while he was still a little thing, my youngest loved taking him out for walks and training. Like the cat, she dressed him up in hats and all manner of little costumes. I didn’t have the funds for professional training. Eventually, his barking and lunging at other dogs added to her anxiety and soon her dog became my dog.

Which, I knew all along was a possibility. We had a big back yard and she trained him there. I took him out to the dog park and worked with him on interacting with other dogs. A few sessions at doggie daycare also helped and today he’s my great little boy.

Add two more cats

Let it be known that I am a sucker for lost causes. If there’s a bright beautiful modern house and an old run-down money pit with good bones. Oh yeah! I’m team money pit all the way. Because if I don’t love it, who will? As a matter of fact, got my eye on one now.

Snowy had a companion. But she had died and he was lonely. Every day my youngest searched Kijiji, showing me photos of the kitties that Snow could befriend.

“Oh, that’s so cute. No.”

Until the hard-luck case of Blacksie and Leo. Two baby cats whose humans needed an immediate solution due to some long-forgotten reason. The humans were desperate and we had a good-sized house. I drove two hours, picked up the cats, and just like that we had three cats and a dog.

The girls, Blacksie and Leo were inseparable, always snuggling and playing. Snow adopted them and became a cat mom. Everything was great until last year. Guess, the pandemic changed things for them too.

But last year, Snow and Blacks paired up and left Leo on her own. You could feel the tension. I don't speak cat but I could see the estrangement from her sister hurt Leo. She looked sad and lonely. Then a couple of weeks ago she ran away. Which is a whole other story that I did write.

We searched for that cat. Posted brochures and finally went house to house. We created a QR code so people could see her immediately on their phones in glorious colour. There were sightings from security cameras, phone calls, and texts. Each new piece of information refined the search grid.

The girls went to visit their dad and puppy and I kept stuffing mailboxes for five days straight. Every evening after work we headed out. Two hundred flyers later I closed the mailbox on another fruitless flyer, turned around, and there she was.

Puppy started yapping and Leo snuggled him then plopped down on her belly rolled over. And like that the search was over. She climbed onto my right shoulder and the three of us went home.

Maybe she was never that far away. It’s possible she’d been following us all along. I don’t know. Now that she’s back, she hangs with puppy. And they both follow me everywhere I go.

They both sleep in my bed and leave fur everywhere I rest my head.

My youngest daughter who no longer looks after the dog informs me that I could close my door. She tells me the animals have their own beds and will be fine sleeping without me.

Puppy has only known us since he’s a baby. He’d be lonely, I tell her. As for Leo, she needs me. She needs to have someone love her up. So, I can’t close my door.

My babies need me

I wish I could reduce the fur. Until then, I’ll do the best I can to corral it with daily laundry and allergy pills. Not to mention my inhalers that are on constant alert.

Congratulations Blacksie! You’re the winner because you don’t fur my entire workspace. I appreciate that.