I always say, “Damn, it’s just not washing hands after pooping. Is it really that serious?”
For someone who has never had the experience of raising a cat, this furry little thing represents a whole new world. It’s a living being with its own thoughts, joys, sorrows, and emotions.
At that time, I didn’t even know the basics of taking care of it. All I knew was to break a sausage into three parts every day, giving it one – third and keeping two – thirds for myself. I’d pour it some water, but I had no idea when it ran out. It was quite common for it to be thirsty for a day or two. I only started feeding it cat food after being guided by a friend, and Little Meow was almost a year old when it began eating cat food.
As for the most headache – causing excretion problem, I can only say I’m grateful that it’s a cat. Cats are much better than dogs in this regard. As long as you take it to the litter box once and let it relieve itself there, you won’t have to worry about it pooping and peeing all over the place for the next N years.
At that time, I was so ignorant about raising cats that I actually thought cat litter was real sand. I even brought back a bucket of sand from a construction site. Well, you can imagine the smell.
Despite all this, Little Meow still managed to survive firmly.
To be honest, if it had been pooping and peeing all over the place from the start, I would have thrown it away long ago. Really, at that time, I had no emotional attachment to it.
The longer I spent with it, the more I discovered its good qualities.
There was a time when I seriously doubted that Little Meow was a cat. Instead, I thought it was a dog disguised as a cat.
Because Little Meow was extremely clingy, much more than what you’d expect from a cat.
Since we got familiar with each other, Little Meow was like my shadow.
When I cook, it squats and watches me.
When I drink water, it squats and watches me.
When I use the toilet, it squats outside the door and watches me.
When I’m doing something else… well, you can imagine.
When I sleep, it curls up next to my pillow.
My house has two rooms. When I’m writing, it lies on the bed in this room, curled up on the cotton cushion, just sleeping. When I finish writing and go to the other room to sleep, lying in the quilt, I’ll shout, “I’ll give you one minute. If you don’t come, I’ll beat you up.”
It doesn’t need a minute. In just ten seconds, I can feel its breath beside me.
The longer we lived together, the more it seemed to understand what I was saying.
No matter how I call it, whether it’s “Little Meow”, “Son”, “Little naughty cat”, “Darn cat”, etc., it knows that I’m calling it. It will come to me immediately. We look at each other, and then I tell it that I’m okay and it can go play.
Little Meow flicks its tail, meows “unhappily”, and then turns around and goes off to play somewhere else.
Moreover, besides being clingy, it can even guard the house.
One night, the neighbors next door were arguing. Little Meow immediately woke up from its drowsy state, growling softly, and kept watch at the door.
Once, I got sick and had a fever. I woke up in the middle of the night because of the fever.
I opened my eyes and saw Little Meow lying beside me, its eyes wide open like two small bells, as if thinking:
“What’s wrong with this guy?”
I wanted to speak but couldn’t. I wanted to touch it, but I had no strength in my hands and feet.
Little Meow walked around me a few times, came up to my face, nuzzled me, licked me, and then lay down obediently in front of me.
It was as if it was saying:
“Be good. I’m here. I’m staying with you.”
Most of the time, Little Meow is very obedient, and I’m really glad about that.
However, after all, it’s a cat and will make mistakes. For example, it might tear toilet paper all over the floor, poop on the ground, poop on my bed, or scratch my face in the middle of the night.
Most of these are my fault. At first, I didn’t know that the litter box needed to be cleaned regularly. As a result, the litter box was full of cat poop, and Little Meow really didn’t know where else to relieve itself, so it had to do it on the ground. Later, when Little Meow hurt its leg and couldn’t get off the bed, if I was at home, I’d carry it to the ground. But if I was away for a whole day and night, it was understandable that Little Meow couldn’t hold it in and pooped on my bed.
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