Iris the Cat, part 3 featuring Rita the Russian

Iris signed her own eviction notice from my heart. After throwing her out the door, showering, and calling my mom to complain, I sat down at my computer and went to Craigslist. 

This is where Iris should have been posted 5 months, $500, a spaying bill, and teeth cleaning earlier. 

My ad read something like:

This is Iris. She is a five year old female tortoise shell. She can't live with me anymore (there may have been a lie about my landlord finding out I had a cat), but the good news is she comes with accessories! A cat carrier (Crystal found one on the side of the road so I was no longer using a laundry basket), a bed, various feather toys, mice, food dishes, and a grooming brush. 

Within 15 minutes I had a response from Rita. She was very interested and was going to take the bus to pick Iris up. That should have been my first hint of the craziness, but I was blinded by hate and cat piss, so I said "I'll bring her to you."

An hour later, I was buzzed into the most depressing apartment building I had ever been to in the Central District. Rita was sharing a one bedroom apartment with her teenage daughter. They were both very sweet, and showed me the cat castle they still had from a former cat. I handed Iris over. They let her out of her crate, and she darted around the room. 

"Oh, she's fat"

"Yes, but very affectionate!"

I had felt so bad for the starving Iris that I had started to let her free feed. At her last trip to the vet where we found out she was covered in fleas and depressed, they also mentioned that she was 13 pounds and pre-diabetic. I had more than doubled her body weight in 5 months.

Iris was checking out her new locale, investigating where the new headquarters for her reign of terror would be located. She eventually made her way over to the cat castle and settled in.

"Well, looks like she's home. Thanks for taking her."

"You can come visit anytime! I know this must be very hard for you."

"Uh, yes. Very hard. Please take good care of her."

As I walked away, the sense of relief was overwhelming. I didn't have to share my studio with an inconsiderate, obnoxious cat any longer, and I might be able to sleep through the night.

The next day I received an email from Rita. For a fleeting moment, I forgot about all of the bad times and had a vision of the scared little 5 pound stray, and thought "I need to save her!" But instead, I just laughed and thought "she needs a crazy cat lady." And that is exactly what she got: 

Hi Erin, 

Iris is doing good but I have a few questions. When you said feed her twice a day, did you want to give her a whole can twice a day, or only half a can? Because, you know how she likes to eat. Lol. Does she even snack on dry food at all? Oh, and can she have milk? Because she likes it a lot. I could give her 2% or non-fat. What did doctor say about milk? 

She had a sore on her back, I was wondering if you know what it is, and what to do to help her with that. I rubbed it with a cotton ball with teetree oil solution the night she came here to make sure it doesn't get worse. Do you know if it needs an antibacterial ointment or anything? 

You know, the first evening we cuddled up and I looked into her eyes and we both started crying, and I told her how I totally understood how she felt, and my tears were just pouring, since I recently lost my kitty Tessa, and we reached a pretty good understanding. Like we both told each other of our pain and it got easier to bear. 

It must have been so very hard for you both. I don't want it to be, life is too short, so we should be friends and you should come and visit. We don't live that far away, and there is no reason why we couldn't be friends. We have a lot in common. I'm in college right now in Web Design and Development program. It's my first quarter at SCCC. I did have a BA degree from the UW in art way back, but not enough technical knowledge, so I am back in school.

Does Iris like company of other animals? Do you know? Would she like a friend cat to keep her company when I'm at school or at work? 

My cat Tessa didn't like other cats, but enjoyed a pet mouse. Mr Nibbles, the mouse, he got so old, he lost all his hair. Tessa liked him very much and he could even run around the apt totally safely. So how does Iris feel about other animals? Would she like a cat friend or a mouse friend? There is a squirrel that likes to come in whenever possible, but I don't trust her, so I only let her in if I'm right there and can watch. She is full of mischief and she ate all my chocolate candies one time and carried away what she couldn't eat. It was funny. She bangs on the window when it is closed, quite loud, too. I didn't let her eat the chocolates, she did it when I was sleeping one time with the window open, for it was too hot. I don't think it causes harm to squirrels like to dogs, I mean, squirrels are more like rodents, they eat everything. 

I love animals very much and they like me. I had no doubt in my mind when I asked you to bring Iris without meeting her first, that we would find a common language. Every time I walk home from school I talk to every stray cat, a racoon, a squirrel, or a crow. One cool cat one time let me film him and posed very alluringly, rolling around, walking in circles, it was the cutest thing. You can see the video I made with that cat:

http://zooppa.com/ads/pause-to-support-a-cause/videos/you-dont-have-to-be-18

it's for the good cause, you might like to watch that video.

I gather Iris doesn't like dogs, because the neighbor has one, and when it barked, Iris got all nervous and ran around. How does she feel about dogs?

Rita

Iris the Cat, part 2

There were multiple occasions that Iris found herself airborne on a trajectory toward the small strip of grass in the back of my apartment building. Usually it was because she would not stop meowing, but on more than one occasion it was because she would casually approach me, looking for what I thought to be a nice little kitty cuddle.

She would hop up on my lap and roll around, knead my legs a little to get comfortable and immediately begin to purr. "How nice, maybe cats are not awful after all." Then, the little tramp would stop purring and pee on me.

Of course, I decided that she must have some sort of illness, because a cat would never be so malicious as to pee on a person, especially not one as great as me. So, I saved up my tips again and carried her in a laundry basket to the vet.

They were unimpressed.

"You know she could jump out of your car really easily from that laundry basket."

"Fingers crossed!" 

"We have some carrying boxes you can use to get her home."

"Great. She keeps peeing on me."

After about 15 minutes, a shot, and $200, the mystery was solved: Iris was covered in fleas and allergic to their bites. She tested negative for everything else, so the peeing issue was behavioral and they could prescribe an antidepressant. 

Yeah right. I was taking kava kava and St. John's Wort as a poor person's cure for the time i like to refer to as "the dark days." If anyone was getting an anti depressant in this situation it was not the damn cat.

We returned home, broke, depressed, and defeated. I had become the owner of a neurotic, depressed, and apparently very vindictive cat. I felt kinda bad for her and obviously I felt horrible for myself. The answer: some fancy feast and ice cream. Away I went to the store.

As I walked back into the apartment with our loot and a plan to watch the Notebook on Netflix, I noticed an odd smell. 

Iris the cat had shit right in the middle of my bed. She was crouched in the corner of the apartment with what I can only assume was a smirk on her face. I grabbed her and she hissed. As I headed to throw her out the door, she peed all over me. 

"You piece of shit!" should have been the last words she ever heard, but revenge was much, much sweeter. I gave her to Rita, the crazy Russian.

Iris the Cat part 1

After moving back from Maui on some sort of failed spirit quest, I was feeling lonely. I was working at a coffee shop full time, which really means I was doing pro-bono therapy and babysitting kids at night. A year passed and I found myself living in a dank, dark, tiny ass studio all alone.

Enter: the stray cat of Javasti.

This poor little thing had been scrounging around in the back of the shop for a few days when another employee gave in to her incessant starvation mode meowing and bought a can of wet cat food. Little did Iris (the human) know the course of events that she had just initiated. 

Iris placed the can of food in the milk fridge. I walked in the next morning and the owner simply stated "I don't want to know anything about it, I just want it gone." The cat was out of the bag (sorry, I had to), and it was time for us to make a decision. We put a notice on craigslist with no response. Next course of action, one of us had to take her home. I hate cats, I live in a studio, I barely make enough money to feed myself and keep PBR in the fridge, so obviously the choice was clear: I needed this cat. 

I immediately rode my bike home and came back with a laundry basket and a towel. This is the Ballard version of a cat crate. I grabbed the cat, tossed it in the basket, threw the towel over it and ran through the coffeeshop out to my car. It was like I had made a prison break, only no one was trying to keep the cat. 

I took her to my studio, threw her inside and then drove to PetCo to get all the essentials in colors that would match my apartment. I also signed up to be a rewards member, because why the hell not? My key ring looks pretty awesome with all of that flare!

After setting up everything, the cat and I had a little chat where I explained that we were poor and that she would only be eating dry food, but to get over it because she was a stray after all and she should just be happy to be alive.

I took her to the vet after saving my tips up for a week. She only weighed 5.5 pounds, and based on her jacked up teeth (which needed tons of work) she was 5 years old. When they asked what her name was, I replied "Iris". Obviously, I got into this because of that can of wet food she bought, so the cat needed to be named after her. 

Iris loved to wake up at 2am and jump on me and meow. In a studio, there is no where to put a meowing cat other than the bathroom, which she hated, and I could still hear her shrill little meow. So, Iris became an outdoor cat. I opened the door and chucked her outside. She loved it! Except, she seemed to attract fleas like I attract tattooed assholes, and similarly she was allergic....and this would be the downfall of our relationship.