Jack-ed

I have been trying to find inspiration for today's blog entry, but I keep meeting resistance. Furry resistance. His name is Jack and he's very intent on keeping me from paying more attention to the computer than to him. In an effort to teach him a lesson, I'm making him the subject of this entry. 

This seems to have calmed him down actually. Odd. If my dad told my sister or me that we were the topic of his Sunday letter or sermon, it would have the opposite effect on us. But Jack is the picture of confidence. After all, it's even more than he'd wanted. Instead of simply gaining my attention, he's now gaining the attention of anyone who stumbles upon this site. (Thanks family!) 

I found Jack before I even moved to LA. He was a Craigslist kitten. I'd already decided that I wanted a cat when I moved across the country. But I didn't want to wait until I moved to start looking. It's like shopping a few days before payday. You gotta get a wishlist in your head! At the time, I'd recently discovered the magic of Craigslist and was using it for every random thing I could possibly "need." I came across an ad featuring a "cute kitten with a one inch tail." Well, that was too good to skip over. The photo showed a cute little black kitten with smears of white fur here and there. Sure enough, her tail was only about an inch long. But my attention was instantly drawn to the stocky little ball of personality next to her. He was tabby colored and seemed ready to leap at the camera. I was in love. 

Quickly I went back to the search results to see if he was also up for adoption. Can you imagine my excitement when his was the very next ad on the list? I emailed the foster contact that very day. I figured it was probably a long shot that he'd still need a home by the time I got to LA, but I had to do my best. I kept in constant email contact with the foster, pleading for her to wait a month until I got out there before deciding what to do with him. I talked my soon-to-be roomie into offering to take his sister as well. The lady wanted to keep them together, and I needed all the bribery I could think of to make sure she picked us. Finally, I got to LA and we arranged to meet the kittens. My mom came along with us since she was still in town helping me get settled.

 There's my little guy! I couldn't believe how cute he was! He darted around so quick I thought for sure he was going to knock himself out on a wall. He jumped like he had little springs in his legs. He barreled into his sister just for the heck of it. I mean, she was clearly the runt of the litter so she was basically asking to be knocked over. 

When I first saw his photo on craigslist, I imagined I'd call him Sinatra because he appeared to have blue eyes. That wasn't the case in real life. Some people believe that pets name themselves if you pay attention. Watching him jump around, I kept thinking he was like a little jackrabbit. His paws were huge, kind of like a rabbit's would be. From that moment on, he was Jack. Very quickly we realized he had an alter ego. This cat was French and was named Jacque Le Poo. It was much less fun when he came to visit.

If you're still picturing that cute little thing in the above photo, I should point out that he was only that size for about a month. Overnight he seemed to explode into this adorable, but somewhat intimidating, (how do I put this...?) uh--fatty. Yeah, no one really understands until they see him in person. Or until they see this photo:

My sister sent that tank top for him. It says "Treehugger." I'm still amazed I survived shoving him into that thing. I swear, I am not one of those people who dresses her pet up all the time. This was his one and only foray into the world of pet clothing. But it did make for some pretty hilarious photos. My sister says she checks them out anytime she needs a good laugh. 

Jack is a pretty laid back cat. Though there were two incidents with different guy friends who didn't get their faces away from his paw in time. But he's become the closest thing I have to family since moving to LA. It can be a super lonely city at times, and I've been extremely lucky to have him for company. Especially since moving into my own place, I've found it's a comfort just to have another living creature around. Don't get me wrong, there are days he's lucky he's so darn cute or he'd end up living on the fire escape. But for the most part, I think it's a fair trade. He puts up with my bad mood days and I scoop out his litterbox without complaining. Much. I wouldn't have it any other way.