My husband really does put himself second a lot, and nothing is more indicative of that than my main Valentine's Day present—Mal. (Named, of course, for Malcolm Reynolds.) (And because he's a Spoiler McGee—he also bought me a Duel in Space poster!)
Colt is very allergic to cats, so him gifting me with one is a bit of self-sacrifice. As long as he doesn't rub his eyes right after touching Mal, he's good. And we're both going to have to get used to having a cat around. For example, Mollie doesn't do this:
Mal's also quite nocturnal, while Mollie could sleep for 18 hours and still want to nap during the day. I can't resist the furry little guy, though. Could you?
Mal and Mollie aren't quite the best of friends yet, but I have hope that they'll get there someday.
And now, a little bit of the History of Man(dy):
I've had a lot of cats as pets in my 28.19 years of life. Mollie's the first dog I've had for more than a few months. Here's a shortish, rambling and somewhat sad timeline for you of my various cats:
When I was born, my parents had a cat named P.T. (which, yes, was short for Putty Tat). He passed away soon after, and my parents adopted Tiger and Mittens when I was 18 months old. When we moved to Oregon when I was eight, we inherited a barn cat named Miss Kitty with our new house. A couple of years later, we adopted a kitten some neighbors found and named him J.L. (which was short for Jean-Luc ... our names got better as the years passed.)
A year or two after that, a cat showed up at our house and made herself part of the family. We called her Shorty on account of her nubbin of a tail. Unbeknownst to us, Shorty was pregnant, and soon had four little babies, which I—in my burgeoning nerddom—named Yoda, Wookie, R2 and D2.
That same summer—sad alert—Mittens and Miss Kitty went missing. We lived on a farm in a wooded area mountain lions were known to frequent, and all our cats were indoor/outdoor. We also gave Yoda away to a nice home, and once Shorty had been spayed and her kittens were old enough to live on their own, she moved on.
We were left with Tiger, J.L., Wookie, R2 and D2, whose name soon changed to Bear. R2 passed away that Christmas due to a unfortunate accident, and Wookie went missing soon after.
We moved to Connecticut after I graduated high school and took Tiger, J.L. and Bear with us. Tiger passed away my freshman year in college at the ripe old age of 18 due to do cancer complications. J.L. soon after decided to go back to his wild roots—cats really are their own bosses—and went to live in the woods surrounding our house. We saw him occasionally after that, but he'd never come back into the house.
Bear moved with Mom down to Texas in 2007, but has since passed away.
All of them were wonderful animals and friends, and I have a spot in my heart for them all.