Introducing Stella

Well, I have put off making an important introduction long enough. I do not live alone. In fact, one could say that I am not even the "alpha" in my apartment (or my life, for that matter). I take orders from a furry female feline named Stella.

In full disclosure, I will admit now, rather than later, that I am a crazy cat lady; however, in my defense, she is a one of a kind, distinct personality, you forget she isn't human type of pet. Ask anyone who has met her, she is worthy of being name dropped into typical conversations.

My family was a cat family. My Mom wanted us to have a dog, but my Dad knew that parents end up taking on the brunt of chores and pet ownership responsibilities and, therefore, refused (one could argue he couldn't bear the heartbreak as getting a dog eventually leads to saying goodbye to a dog and the loss of Whiskers was just too much for him still). The compromise? Cats. Well, actually, the compromise was a cat. Singular. A friend of a friend found a brother and sister kitten duo trapped in a raccoon cage on his land. The man wanted to keep the male and let us take the female.  We named her Tuna (awesome).  Within a couple days of living with Tuna, we learned she was extremely unhappy about being separated from her brother. The man versus three doe-eyed children? We ended up with two cats. Bunkey and Tuna both lived to be just shy of 20. I missed them whenever I was at college and, for my senior year, decided that I wanted a cat of my own.

My parents agreed that I could take care of and financially support a cat after some convincing and accompanied me to the Vero Beach Humaine Society in Florida. I was set on a male, black and white tuxedo kitten who loved to cuddle. I walked out with a female grey speckled kitty with a black spot on her nose and killer green eyes. She had crawled into my lap and fell asleep at the shelter, what would you have done? Her given name of Belinda (really?) was changed to Stella and she was mine.

Remember when I said she fell asleep in my lap? That has never happened since. Apparently the humane society had just given her a round of vaccines, which made her drowsy. The next day, with medications worn off, her full on crazy came into view. She was an energetic huntress that only allowed me to hold her for short periods as long as she sensed food would be earned for putting up with the obnoxious snuggles. She is a begging, talkative, following, get-all-up-in-your-business type of feline with Pica (which means she eats random objects, they get stuck, and she needs surgery). If Darwin had his way, she would be long gone by now. She eats my clothes, my food, flowers, cords, hair ties, rubber bands, twisties, bling cords and shoes. She needs constant attention and has a "side" of my bed. She can sit on command, play fetch, and "shake". She used to drink out of the toilet until I learned to keep the lid down. Her favorite foods are cereal, popcorn (air popped only) and cantaloupe. She is one of a kind.

You may ask why I would put up with such a handful and my response is this: she is mine. I picked her and we have been two peas in a pod ever since. She got me through boy issues, a couple of moves, and lonely nights. She is an excellent entertainer when I am playing hostess. My Dad was there when I chose her and she was in the room, waiting in the wings, when I lost him. She is completely entwined in my life. Does this make me sound like a crazy cat lady? You bet. But I already warned you about that.

All in all, the point of this post is to introduce you to Stella. I just wanted everyone to have a frame of reference when she does something obnoxious requiring me to vent my annoyance in a future blog post.

Yesterday, Stella (nicknames: Button, Buttonbean, Stella Bean, Stella Pants, Stella Button Bean Pants, and Guzik the Polish word for Button) was my Valentine.  And by Valentine, I mean she ate two of the thirty tulips my Mom sent me for Valentine's Day.

Who was your Valentine?