My cats, my rulers, my babies

I'm a Leo chick. It seems fitting that I own cats, or rather, they own me. I've always had cats, mostly boys, but my current two are girls. Tiger striped tabbies. Their names are Aglio and Olio. That's garlic and oil, if you know your Italian. Sue me. I never said I wasn't odd. I have a girlfriend who says I should get a third cat and called it Parsley. I pondered the concept momentarily but decided that two other women in the house was enough.

Aglio is like the little kid you always see pulling on his mother's skirt in the shopping centre the minute she puts her attention to something else. She'll wake me in the night by tapping my face with her paw or trying to eat my ear. The latter of the two is something she's only recently mastered and I can't say it's all that pleasing to be woken by someone chewing and purring in your ear at 3.30am just coz they're bored with nothing to do....well unless they're tall, dark and handsome, then I might be accommodating to whatever's on their mind! *grins*

She's a terror. Always vying for attention and if she can't get it, she'll create a scene or annoy her sister till she gets whacked by her or I break it up, whichever comes first. Then she'll go back to being the sweetest little tigery patterned thing you've ever seen who can't seem to sit close enough to you. Beside is not good enough. On is imperative. Oh, and that's food on your plate? Whatcha got? Oh no, she doesn't beg. She just wants to know what you're having. She has to know everything. Hmmm....takes after her mother...

Olio is sweet and affectionate. Always says hello when you walk into the room and purrs like her little two stroke engine is about to go into overdrive. She has the softest white fur on her belly and pretty black mascara around her eyes. But she's a little odd. She has a shoe fetish. It doesn't matter what shoe, or whose, but if she sees one, she has to check it out. I think shoe smells set off some sort of hormonal imbalance in her. She honestly can't resist. I've seen cats before grab shoes and play with laces or bite the sides. No, Olio doesn't do this. She'll sniff, rub and carress, then suddenly force her whole head inside the shoe as far as she can push. It's rather odd to watch, but a good conversation topic for folks who drop by. "Here's my cat, Olio. She has a shoe fetish. She takes after her mother. Wanna see my leather stuff upstairs?..."

That reminds me of when I first brought them home. I was living with my ex and they were so small I could carry them both in one hand. So tiny, so fragile. I can't even remember where I'd gone this particular day. Maybe to work, maybe just shopping. But I came home and went to see where they were. I found Algio pretty quickly. Shake food box, Aglio appears. Magic!

But Olio was nowhere to be seen. Then across the back yard I saw a cat food tin....with legs and fur and no head....and not moving. Upon inspection, I discovered that Ms Olio had obviously decided I hadn't quite got all the food out and she'd help herself and in doing so had got herself firmly stuck half way into the tin. Panic!!

My immediate thought was that she'd suffocated from lack of air, but she moved and I started to breath again. My next fear was worse. What if, in my attempts at tin removal, I tear her poor little head off? Or even an ear? Thankfully, without much pulling, her little head popped out. But man, she stunk more than a fish market! Sunshine, hot cat food remnants, kitten fur and lack of air all combine to produce some pretty mean odours!

I can tell you, after that episode, and the subsequent head being scrubbed under the tap episode, it amazes me that, four years later, she's still sticking her head into stinky places and seems to quite enjoy it.