How did you meet your cat(s)?

[CrinolineFrou]

I am rather the new to this part of mn. So may I ask how you met/found your current cat(s)?

Was it love at first sight?

Any bumps in the road?

agnurse Your pictures of your cats on their daddy are just brilliant. My DH also says he only tolerates the cat for my sake but I've heard how he talks to him when he thinks I can't hear

LemonRedwood

Yup, I hear a lot of the following:

"You! What? You big dope! Wifie, he is licking my hand/hair. He's an obsessive little stalker!" (Ignoring the fact that Daddy spoke to Biggie FIRST, BEFORE he came over to see Daddy.)

"What? Hello, little guy. Hello, hello, hello." (To Gatsby.) "Wifie, look at little guy."

My dh denies calling himself daddy to the cat. We joke the cat regards him as mommies other, bigger pet.

There’s a lot of truth in jest though.

A friend of an acquaintance had a litter that was unwanted and she was going to give to a shelter. There were four and I couldn't take all of them ☹️. I chose the smallest and most frail looking. She's nearly 14 and far from frail.

Used the same rescue centre 5/6 timesvisited a few times with various DC before working out which Dcat was going to choose usthen sloooowly told DH that we were 'helping the world' by rescuing yet another Dcat

It’s cat pet shop, proudly telling my mum he was only a £1. He lasted 23 years.

Second cats rescue kittens. Always a little bit feral, lap cats, but would wander off for months at a time.

Current cats from a family home where there v young cat had got out just before being spayed. She couldn’t wait to get rid. They’ve grown into massive bruisers.

Battersea. Mr C had been brought in by a man called Mr C who rescued him after he was being menaced by a gang wanting to steal cats for bait at dog fights.

Mr C was not ready for rehoming, and was terribly thin and weak. I thought he was a black cat as he was so dirty, and he was (is) FIV, so there weren't ever going to be many takers. In fact, them's the days when FIV cats were, er, dealt with.

We were walking past his cage and I said Who's That. Battersea said, he's not ready.

Mr C and I approached the wire of the cage from opposite sides. I pleaded like a toddler to be allowed to say hello. He was dumped into my arms. I kissed his cheek. He looked polite.

The first night we got home, we were both so exhausted from the Big Day that we collapsed onto the bed and passed out till the morning.

That was 11 years ago. He is my joy. He speaks English (7 words), runs the home with a paw of iron, and offers The Belly as a treat. In return, I do everything he wants.

Super, that's another happy ending that could have gone awfully wrong. Poor Mr C, but nice to know it all worked out for him.

Mr C rescued me way more than anything I did for him.

Ahh, that's really sweet. All cats (and other animals) are special, but some just have that certain something, that knowing somehow. If you are new to mumsnet you will love the litter tray section.

1, 19, hugely up the duff and moved into my own flat the Monday before, I persuaded X1 to turn right into Last Chance's front gate. Wasn't going to get anything, just wanted a look. Taken into a large shed filled with cats (and fleas). All very nice, then I nearly tripped over a cardboard box, looked down and saw her eyes. 'Oh, we found that outside the gate this morning and the vet said he'll have a look, but ones that small don't tend to last long without their Mums and we don't have anybody able to look after her '. I retrieved a flea ridden 6 week old tabby and, after ten minutes with her, said I didn't want to be silly and I'd think about it. At 7.30am the following morning, I phoned back and by 9.30, an extremely tired looking staff member practically hurled her at me said 'don't worry about the money. She's lovely'. I combed out 72 fleas with hot water that afternoon and her majesty lived to 17, albeit not all with me, because my bastard ex took her.

1. 26 and said I was thinking of getting a cat. X2 said he had a surprise for me when we got home. He opened an empty box, looked confused and after 45 minutes searching the flat he finally told me what he'd done. I immediately went into the kitchen, looked behind the cooker and found a black, grey tabby and white kitten. Strongly disapproved of him paying a pet shop, but he said he'd gone in there and the kitten grabbed his arm as he walked past the cage and yelled at him. Was probably 8 weeks old. DD5 then managed to break her wrist before I'd had a chance to pick her up from a club. Went to the hospital. Came back with DD in plaster. She forgot about her pain then. Checked on her at about 11pm and she was sound asleep in my bed with a kitten sleeping on his back, cradled in the cast hand. Adored. Spoiled. Finally had to be PTS at 14.

1. Still 26. Two weeks with Cat 2, just offered a new job and thought 'he needs a friend'. X asked at work because I'd refused point blank to go to the pet shop. Friend of a friend of a colleague said their NDN was moving house in the morning, but had a kitten left over from selling the rest because they were longhaired and this one wasn't. Went there. Got given a pathetic scrap of tabby. No money exchanged hands. Cat was around 4 weeks old and I wasn't going to let anybody else have her. Practically handreared her, teaching her to go to the toilet, everything. Turned out to be my biggest baby, absolutely adored me, criminal genius, instinctive Mum to human babies, pestered next door when they had a baby. Broke my heart when she had to be PTS six months after the other one. Still the cat by which I judge all others.

1. GrumpyFluffyTwatCat. Neighbour's son flung her at me because her youngest was hurting it constantly. Extremely pretty, longhaired Tortoiseshell. And I got a free scratching post and lots of toys thrown in. Was around six months, told she'd been spayed. Nope. A very long fortnight followed until the vet would spay her. Cat still hated me, hissing and biting and scratching. Five years later, she decided she actually quite liked me. Now about 14 and adores me at night and likes me lots the rest of the time.

5.TwatCat. Daughter of online friend said there was a cat in her work's yard that turned out to be up the duff when she took her home. The leftover one came home in my handbag when Mum cat rejected them all after being spayed 6 weeks after birth. He's a fucking Twat. With Feline Cerebellar Hypoplasia. Clumsy as fuck, probably a bit short sighted, thick as shit. But the kindest natured Twat I've ever met shortly ahead of DP.

What absolutely beautiful stories! Loving the empty box moment most

I love tales like these.

They're like romance stories.

Apart from our first cat, who turned up on the doorstep, I usually go to a rescue place and wait to be adopted.