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No more than usual.

(Many of our spouses and significant others, would wager that “we’re ALL mad here” at C&S.)

But seeing as June 4th was Hug Your Cat Day, I figured it was only fitting to share a cat’s story. And not just ANY cat, MY cat.

As the store’s resident “Crazy” Cat Lady, it isn’t too often that I get to babble on about the greatness that is my cat. So I’m taking this opportunity. I write the blog, let me enjoy my modicum of power.

So here’s one for the cat lovers, cat owners, cat admirers — I guess, really anybody who enjoys a story about an animal finding their Forever Home. (So, I’m guessing all of you!)

Without further ado, I give you:

A Cat’s Tale…with Brandy

What is your pet’s full name? Brandy the Cat

Breed of pet or closest approximation: Tortoise Shell colored cat

How old is your pet? 13

When and how did you meet your pet? My husband adopted Brandy in Brooklyn, New York when her owner was given an ultimatum from his significant other: either me or the cat. The significant other may have won that argument, but we are the real winners because we got Brandy.

What is your pet’s favorite activity? Lounging, eating, eating while lounging.

What is your pet’s favorite treat, if any? Either Honest Kitchen’s Pro Bloom Instant Goat’s Milk, or Primal Raw Goat Milk.

What is your pet’s favorite toy, if any? The Rainbow Snake, feather on a stick, “Lamby the Stuffed Lamb”.

Finish this sentence: Brandy will do anything for… Tuna.

The funniest thing my pet does is… Dive-bomb us when we’re sleeping from the VERY TALL dresser next to our bed. Funny but painful.

Describe Brandy in 5 words: Cranky, fickle, hungry, ADORABLE, discerning.

Believe it or not, this is Brandy’s “award winning picture”. She won a t-shirt.

When Brandy Met…

Brandy was my husband’s cat long before she was my cat. The two of them were this little devoted family unit more than six years before I came along. Even though I know my cranky little kitty cares for me in her way, she and my husband have a bond that I’ll never be quite be in on. That’ okay. With a start like they had it’s no wonder.

Brandy went to live with my husband in his Brooklyn apartment after her old owner gave her up. Apparently the guy was getting married and his fiance was not a fan of Brandy. So young Brandy, barely a year old at the time, was given to my husband. Upon going to pick her up from her old home, my husband told me he promised her right then and there, “I’ll never give you up, you’ll always be my kitty”.

Sweet words, yes. But in retrospect, we’re pretty sure that Brandy decided to right then and there to see how far she could push this “new guy”.

Upon getting back to my husband’s apartment, he let Brandy loose. Skittish by nature, she immediately darted off to hide. My husband found her wedged between the wall and the refrigerator. Figuring he’d let her calm down a little, he let her be for a few minutes.

When he returned, Brandy was still wedged in the tight space between the fridge and the wall. He reached out to pet her, as he did earlier, but was startled to find she was rigid. He prodded her a little. Nothing.

“Brandy!”, my husband called to her and scratched her behind, the end that was facing him. No response. Nudged her a little harder, and he was horrified to find she moved, as he described, “like dead weight”. He tried to reach in and pick her up, but she was too far wedged in.

Freaking out, my husband became convinced that Brandy had died of fright. Not knowing what to do, he quickly called his best friend to come over and help him dislodge what he thought was Brandy’s body. I know this all sounds a little dramatic, but this was over 13 years ago and my husband was but a kid in his early 20’s with his first “all his own” cat.

The best friend came over, and upon prodding Brandy, agreed that she must have been sick, and therefore expired. The only way to get her out would be to move the fridge.

So the two of them awkwardly grabbed hold of the appliance and started to gently wiggle it out of the nook it occupied.

They had only wiggled it a few inches when they were startled by a hissing sound and a blur of brown. Spinning around, my husband caught sight of the tip of Brandy’s tail darting into his bedroom. SHE WAS ALIVE!

Brandy turned out to be just fine. My husband claims that he passed Brandy’s “test”, and that from moment on she KNEW she had him wrapped around her little paw. They came to the understanding that she was in charge. And she’s taken full advantage of it since.

So even now, 13 years, 5 moves, and 2 states later, I’m fully convinced that Brandy knows my husband and I are completely devoted to her. We live in HER home, no sleeping surface is off limits to her (my pillow is not my own), and her food costs more than ours.

But despite her ruling us with an iron paw, we wouldn’t have it any other way. When she decides to grant us the honor of sleeping on our lap, that little motor inside her chest purrrrrrrring away — it’s all worth it.

Like my husband promised so many years ago, she’ll always be our kitty.

Brandy decided that this is her drawer.

Go hug your pet right now!

~Your Loyal Calvin & Susie Blogger.

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