Information


Cinderelli has a minion!

Twizey and Roo the Besties




Cinderelli
Legacy Name: Cinderelli


The Angel Feli
Owner: Megido

Age: 11 years, 4 weeks, 2 days

Born: August 29th, 2009

Adopted: 11 years, 4 weeks, 2 days ago (Legacy)

Adopted: August 29th, 2009 (Legacy)

Nominate Pet for Spotlight

Statistics


  • Level: 1
     
  • Strength: 10
     
  • Defense: 10
     
  • Speed: 10
     
  • Health: 10
     
  • HP: 0/10
     
  • Intelligence: 3
     
  • Books Read: 0
  • Food Eaten: 0
  • Job: Unemployed


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There's a handful of perks when you're a little kid and your mother works at the local Humane Society- you can go to work with her on weekends and play with all the puppies and kittens, and often times she'd bring home litters of motherless animals that you got to help hand-raise. In time all those little kittens and the litter of pit bull puppies that stayed in our bathtub for a week found homes of their own, and it was nice to have them around but they never stayed very long; at some point I'm sure my four-year-old self cried when her new furry friends had to be taken back to the shelter to find homes. But what turned out to be the very best perk of my mother's job was that she was allowed one free adoption every year, a privilege she'd never exercised until she brought home a little calico kitten.

"She's afraid of all the dogs that bark, so we're taking her home for a break, okay?" She'd told me with a smile, watching as I played with this little kitten, fully under the impression that she was going back to the shelter at the end of the week. I grew to love the little thing, and of course when it came time for her to go I was upset. What I wasn't expecting my mother to pick her up and ask if I'd like to keep her- in reality she'd brought the kitten home to see how she got along with out other cats, because she'd fully intended for her to be my first cat. I was overjoyed, and after some thought I named her [b]Cinderella[/b] and gave her countless middle names (primarily the names of catfood brands).

Cinder was the perfect cat for me. She loved to play and did in fact get along with most of our cats, except for Bobby; we were never quite sure what her issue with him was, but he was an outdoor cat so it wasn't a problem. She was soft and snuggly, and whenever I cried she come running to me, butting me with her head and meowing, making sure I was okay. Sure I had my human friends, and I loved all of our other animals, but Cinder was without a doubt my best friend. I grew up with her and never ceased to love her, nor she me, even though she did play less and less as she got older and became the oldest of our indoor cats, giving off the impression that she only allowed them all to live in her home, even if they were the best of kitty friends. She made two moves with me in eight years, and then a trip across the country when we moved out east- my father left a month before the rest of us to set up our new home, taking the animals with us. I missed my kitty sorely for that month, but at the end we were reunited, happy as could be in our new home.

Three years later, and another move across town- Cinder was getting old, and it was starting to show. I started high school. One of our younger cats died of liver disease, and another new kitten entered our lives. Cinder started to age poorly; you could tell that under all that fur she was deathly skinny, no matter how much she ate, and eat she did! As soon as you woke up in the morning she would run around your feet screaming for food, and would do so until you fed her over and over and over. Even when her stomach was probably about to burst from how much she'd eaten, she'd just want more. She'd hop up on the table and steal food from your plate, fish or steak, even Brussels sprouts, but never green beans. She didn't like those. I had a close call with her one night, when she crawled into the bathroom and laid down to have a seizure/stroke, looking for all appearances to be on her way out of life. But we got lucky. She lived several months more.

August 2009, my family made our now-annual summer trip to Maine. Par normal we'd left our dogs at a kennel, and given a friend of mine who lived in the neighborhood a key to the house so she could look after the cats; Cinder had long sense stopped understanding the concept of a litterbox, so we'd set her up in the garage because it wasn't fair to ask my friend to clean up after her, just to feed and water her. She had a fan and blankets, a sign telling her I loved her because I felt bad that she had to be out there. I gave her a hug, told her I'd see her in a week, and left for vacation. Five days later I got the phone call that she'd died.

It was never conclusive as to what caused her death, only that she'd been acting strangely and not eating all of her food that day- we can only presume that she'd had another stroke/seizure, or had just died of old age. Regardless, Cinder will always stay in my heart; as sappy and cliche as that sounds, it's true. While I love my second cat very much, Rella with always remain near and dear to me, closer than the others because she was my first.

I miss you, girl. The house really is too quite with out you.



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