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A Wynter’s Tale
Hello, everyone! Hi there! My name is Wynter, but most people call me Wynty (rhymes with ‘minty’). I’m a kitty who loves to blog. You can find my page on Facebook, and it’s called Wynter’s Wonderland! For starters, a big paws up to Katzenworld Blog for inviting me to write a story for them. As a new blogger who happens to be a cat, my main goal is to make people smile. Sometimes when we’ve had a bad day, all it takes is a little humor to chase away the negativity, and I really, really enjoy doing that. I hope you’ll give my page a visit!
I’ve spent almost two years now with Mommy, Daddy, Big Brudder, and The Big Old Orange Thing, but my life wasn’t always new toys from Cat Lady Box and sunny windows. Once upon a time, I was a lonely kitty living in a place that wasn’t so good. Let me tell you about the day my life changed forever….
For my entire first year, I spent my life with a lady who didn’t really love me, a person who decided to get rid of me because she was moving. But of course, she was keeping her dog. No one ever leaves their dog behind, it seems. But cats are fair game, and this is really sad. I suppose that finding me a new home was better than just abandoning me to the city pound, but didn’t I deserve to be loved?
One cold day in December 2016, I was hiding in the back bedroom of my owner’s apartment like I did every day. It was the only way to get any peace from that stupid dog that chased me around and ate all my food every chance it got. The day was like any other, except for one thing: no one had wished me a happy birthday. It was my first birthday too, which is supposed to be really special. But instead of a new toy or a treat, I got to watch my owner set up an ad on Craigslist with my picture on it. I knew what that meant.
She was getting rid of me.
I didn’t know how to feel when I found out. Part of me wanted to leave because I was wishing so very hard for a real home. You know, a place where I could be loved and seen as a member of a family, not just an animal that was wanted for her beauty and disposed of when ownership was no longer convenient. The other part of me was scared. What if my new home was worse than this one? What would I do then? Would I be spending Christmas on the streets?
A few days passed, and as the snow outside piled up, I wondered over and over again what would happen to me. I listened to my owner talk on the phone, and the words, “Yes, you can come over and meet the cat,” froze my blood. This was it. Adoption Day had come. I curled up into a tighter ball and tried to sleep, but the fear gnawed at me like a dog’s teeth on a rawhide bone.
Hours later, when I was just waking up, I heard a loud knock at the apartment’s door. Tense, I listened to two strange voices speak with my owner. They were talking about me.
“Follow me,” said my owner. “She’s hiding back here.”
Like you care, I thought. You just want the money my sale will bring you. You paid three hundred dollars for me as a kitten, and now you’re selling me for twenty-five.
“Ginger, come on out. Someone here wants to meet you,” my owner said.
I’m a white cat, and you named me Ginger. If you ever get a black cat, you’ll probably name it Snowball. And I don’t want to come out!
My owner and a lady with long brown hair and glasses entered the back bedroom where I was hiding on the bottom shelf of a bookcase. She called for me again, but I was terrified. Who was this stranger she had brought to inspect me?
Since I was not coming out on my own, she grabbed me and began to pull me out of the bookcase. I struggled and protested at this undeserved treatment, flew out of her hands, and scrambled back inside my hiding place. When she tried again, clearly not caring how I felt, I heard the stranger’s voice say, “Don’t force her. Let me see if I can coax her out.” She knelt down on the floor and began talking to me in a soothing voice, with a gentleness I could not resist.
“It’s alright, little girl,” she said. “I won’t hurt you.”
Somehow, I could not help believing her words to be the truth. I needed them to be the truth. She cautiously put out her hand, and I sniffed it with my little pink nose. Her fingertips lovingly caressed me under my chin, and before I knew it, I was purring.
“Would you like to come home with me, little one?” the strange lady asked, smiling.
Yes, YES, YES! Take me with you! I thought happily. Even the fleas crawling underneath my white fur could not bother me at that moment. A new home! Slowly, I began to inch my way out of the shelf, and close to the kind lady, who scratched my head in all the right places. I leaned my whole body against her, feeling safe for the first time since my kitty mommy snuggled with me after I was born.
“She seems to like you,” said my soon-to-be-ex owner.
“Give her the money, Bradley,” said my new owner. “This kitty’s coming home with us.”
My new daddy handed some green paper to my old owner, and before I knew it, she had placed me in a cat carrier.
“Bye, Ginger,” she said, not at all sad to see me go.
I hope I never hear that name again, I thought.
That’s how I knew she didn’t love me. If she had, she would have seemed sad to let me leave. But I could tell that my new mommy loved me as soon as she heard me purr. A lot. You see, about a week before she adopted me, her kitty died of what they think was some kind of cancer. She was sick for two weeks, then was gone. Mommy cried for days when her sweet Pumpkin went to kitty heaven, because Mommy doesn’t have pets—–she has what she calls “furry kids.” They are very precious to her, and to lose them is heartbreaking.
This is Pumpkin:
Pumpkin was good friends with Caesar, the orange cat that I live with, otherwise known as The Big Old Orange Thing. They had been together for over a decade, and took very good care of one another.
Losing Pumpkin was very hard on Mommy. She just couldn’t cope, and she started looking for another cat to love. Not to replace Pumpkin, you understand, but to be her successor. Also, a new furry friend would distract her from her grief while she healed, and by the time the grieving period was over, she would have created a new bond. At least, that was how she explained it to me. Mommy’s kinda smart. She even writes books and has promised me that she will one day write a book about me!
On the day Mommy adopted me, it was a long drive home (especially when you’re covered in fleas inside a cat carrier), and though I was very happy to be going home with such kind people, I cried the almost the entire way. I just don’t like car trips. Daddy kept saying, “Shut up, you loudmouth!” while Mommy just laughed and spoke to me and petted me to calm me down. I did calm down after a while and only meowed occasionally after that.
When we got home, I was given a bath, which I didn’t like, but it felt so good to have all those fleas taken away, so I forgave Mommy for getting me all wet and making me look like a drowned white rat. Then she introduced me to an orange fluff-monster that turned out to be another cat.
“This is Caesar,” Mommy said. “Caesar, I’d like you to meet Wynter.”
That’s my new name? I was very surprised to find out how beautiful it was, not stupid like some cat names.
This is how I look when I’m surprised.
For the first week in my new home, I was very shy of the B.O.O.T., as well as Mommy’s son, whom I call Big Brudder. I hid under the bed constantly, coming out only when Mommy called me. She would have me come out, pet me and comfort me, and any little noise had me skittering back under the bed. I was scared that there might be a doggie in this house too, you see, but the only thing that ate from my food bowl was the B.O.O.T. Since he always cried for more food even before he could see the bottom of the bowl, I began to stop worrying about going hungry.
Actual photo of me hiding under Mommy’s bed:
A few more days went by, and I slowly began coming out of Mommy’s room during the day, as I had only been coming out on my own when everyone was asleep. I was feeling much better because I wasn’t itchy from fleas anymore, and Mommy and Daddy and Big Brudder were so kind to me, as well as patient. It’s hard being the new cat in town. As time passed, I began to realize that I was part of a family for the very first time. I had my own bed (though I preferred Mommy’s), plenty of food and even more love than I had ever known. Slowly, I was beginning to heal from my former life of neglect and loneliness. That’s the worst thing that can happen to any animal. We can become just as lonely as people can, and we need love just as much.
As you can see, I just can’t stop smiling!
Mommy told me that she doesn’t know why Pumpkin was taken from her so suddenly, but I think I do. The Big Cat Creator in the sky knew that I needed to be rescued, and soon, so though He took Pumpkin home to be with Him, He put Mommy and me together. Not only to save me, but to help Mommy with her grief. Another thing I can tell you is that I’ve never been so happy. Mommy plays with me and talks to me every single day, and we have a very special relationship. I know that she will never let me be abandoned or unloved again.
We are always together, and we love taking selfies!
After a long and difficult road, I can finally say that I’m home now.