Grace Grundmann
Mrs. Bordelon
Creative Writing: Block E
26 February 2014
Memoir: The Day I Got My Cat


It was a hot and humid Louisiana summer afternoon. It was June 2013 when I got my cat, Maisy. Maisy is brownish-gray tabby with hazel eyes. She was the smallest kitten, and the most energetic. She was filthy dirty and when I tried to hold her she squirmed around. I wanted a calmer kitten, but after looking at all of them, I kept finding my way back to her.

At the time, I was a counselor at a kid's camp at Christ Episcopal School. It was a "water day" and I brought a change of clothes in a string backpack. There was a big water slide for the kids, and there was one part of the day when the kids got to spray all of the counselors with water guns. At the end of the day, I was drained, slushy, and ready for a nap.

My friend, Allison, was my ride home, and we decided to hang out at her house before I went home. We took a quick power nap, and then, decided to go for a walk around her neighborhood. She mentioned that her neighbor's cat just had a litter of kittens, so we decided to go see them. I had absolutely no intention of taking any kittens home— I knew my dad would kill me if I took one.

We walked up to her neighbor's house and knocked on the door. The door opened to reveal a frail looking old man. "Y'all here to see the kittens?" he asked, while raising his eyebrows. We nodded, and he lead us into a garage. Right in the middle of the garage was a bed that consisted of blankets, towels, and a sweatshirt and there was kitty litter scattering the floor. All we could see was a bit fat cat laying in the bed of assorted cloth, which we assumed was the mother because she did not look small enough to be a kitten.

Suddenly, kittens started appearing out of nowhere. Some poked their heads out from behind furniture. I saw one peeking at me through a hole in a box. They started popping out, bright eyed and meowing. They were adorable. There were about five of them. Three were black and white and two were tabby.

I really wanted a black and white kitten because all of my other cats are black and white. But, the only problem was, all of the black and white ones were boys. And I wanted a girl. So I looked at the tabby girls and I took a really long time deciding which one I wanted. One was sandy colored tabby with giant hazel eyes. She was longer and lankier. Her meow was tiny and she was super cute. The other tabby was grayish-brown tabby, and she had hazel colored eyes too. She was a little fatter, and a little smaller. She had a louder meow and she was purring nonstop, but she didn't like to be held. I wasn't sure which one I wanted. I decided that the grayish-brown tabby was the one I fell in love with. I felt like I had a gut connection with her.

As I walked back with Allison to her house, victoriously carrying my kitten, a thought leapt into my mind. What are my parents going to do? I knew immediately that my dad was going to have a cow. My mom probably will, too. Why am I so impulsive? I mentally scold myself. But, I decide to push the thought away temporarily.

We got back to Allison's house, and fleas from my new kitten are jumping all over me. I was so grossed out, so I decide to bathe her. We gathered some towel and Johnson's baby shampoo, and in Allison's bathroom sink, I begin to bathe her. And, if you ask anyone who has bathed a cat before, they will tell you it's nearly impossible. She clawed, bit, and went completely berserk. Somehow, while she is going crazy, I managed to get hold of all four of her arms and I held them together. She looked like a roasting pig. I ran the lukewarm water over her and she fought and thrashed to get free. I finally managed to get most of the dirt and grease out of her fur, but she has so many fleas. Little did I know then, that I'd end up having to pick fleas off her for a good three days.

After I de-fleaed her as best as I could, I wrapped her in a warm towel and held her against my chest to calm her down. She was still pretty angry at me. After a while, she gave up trying to struggle free, and fell asleep in my arms. She was the sweetest thing ever. I decided to call her Maisy.

When it was time to go home, I panicked. I decided to hide the kitten from my parents until it was a good time to tell them what I did. I put Maisy in the string backpack I had from camp, and Allison dropped me off. I ran upstairs and put Maisy in the bathroom. Me and Allison bought some cat food and a bowl before she dropped me off, so I set her food up and she chowed down. She was extremely hungry.

My mom called me downstairs to eat dinner, and I reluctantly went down for dinner. But Maisy had some issues with being alone, and she started meowing and meowing. It got louder and louder. I kept sneezing to coverup so my parents would't notice. "I have to go get some allergy medicine," I excused myself and bolted up the stairs to go calm Maisy down. I sat there with her for a little bit until she fell asleep, and then, I went back downstairs. In about five minutes, the meowing started up again. I knew I couldn't hide it for much longer, so I pulled my mom to the side.

I decided to scare her, so it would make the kitten look a lot better. So I started off the talk with, "Mom, I did something really bad and really impulsive." Immediately, she starts assuming alcohol, drugs, pregnancy, etc. She started freaking out, and I took my chance. "No nothing like that! I just got a kitten!" You could almost feel her relax and she breathed a sigh of relief. She told me to wait and see what my dad would think about this. So after we finished our meal, my mom and I decided to talk to my dad about it. He was furious. Smoke was fuming from his ears. He wouldn't talk to me. He wouldn't look at me. He wouldn't go in my room to see the kitten. He told me to enjoy the kitten for the night. We would be taking her back in the morning.
I cried and cried and cried. I wanted to keep her so bad. That night, I let her sleep with me in my bed.

The next morning, I woke up early, made breakfast and coffee, and brought Maisy downstairs. When my dad came down the stairs, he saw me and the kitten and the breakfast I made. He shook his head and sighed and said I could keep the kitten. I squealed and hugged him. Not even a minute later, he is sitting on the couch with Maisy, cuddling with her, playing with her, and asking me to take a picture of him and the kitten. And to think, he was so mad about it. The whole family fell in love with her, and she is the best cat ever.