Shawn and Baby Farrah
One afternoon last May, a co-worker of mine encouraged me to come downstairs from the rehab center. She said that she wanted to show me something. I agreed and followed her down to the first floor where she led me in among the various employee cubes. A group of people were standing around talking. “Here, hold out your hands,” a person told me. “Okay,” I said skeptically. Something furry that was moving soon was squirming in my hands. It was a kitten. Someone had brought in four homeless kittens that they had found in a box on the side of the road.
Anyone who has known me for any length of time knows that I am a dog person. Growing up we always had a dog. Dogs like me and I enjoy their company. They are generally rather basic and predictable creatures. They want food, water, affection and they like to run. Cats on the other hand, are sneaky, they trip you and I have always found them to be untrustworthy. The free spirited agenda of cats has always left me on edge.
”Cool! Nice kitten,” I commented. After listening to people talk about how cute the kittens were, I headed back upstairs. In my mind seeing the kittens was a nice diversion but it was now time to move on with my day. I was not interested in taking on a cat as a pet; I felt it would ruin my bachelor persona. Besides, there was a lot of discussion taking place on who was going to be adopting the kittens.
A few weeks later I learned that one kitten’s new home did not work out. The friend who was keeping her invited me over to hang out. She offered me a beer which I accepted and I started playing with the kitten. She was full of energy, had personality and appeared to be having a wonderful time jumping and tumbling all over the place. Maybe it was due to the couple beers that I had, or perhaps, there was an unknown soft spot in my heart, but I took the kitten home the following day.
After a couple of days debating what I should call her, I finally decided on naming her Farrah. Farrah Faucet had past away recently, not to mention, I found calling my cat Farrah somewhat amusing. Later, the middle name of LaFonda would be added in honor of the modern day cinematic classic “Napoleon Dynamite.”
Right from the start, Farrah changed my life. I was eating cereal, often a dinner staple for me, and I heard the unfamiliar sound of a cat purring. I reached around my cereal bowl to discover Farrah siphoning milk out of my bowl. Not long after that she almost got shut in my dishwasher and in the dryer. When I got out of bed in the morning she would sprint into the bathroom jumping in the tub before I got there. As I shower, Farrah to this day peers at me around the shower curtain; frankly, I find it kind of unnerving!
One thing that I have discovered living with Farrah is that each year brings a new thematic adventure. Last year her major goal in life was to climb a tree outside of my condo. Her attempts to climb the tree resulted in several interesting experiences such as the following story, which I wrote about it my personal blog:
Last night Farrah engaged in a long list of chaotic kitten transgressions. First, she knocked over a lamp. Then she was sitting in the sink and I had to turn water on her to get her out. Farrah then knocked over a stereo speaker. Finally, she got out without me knowing and climbed a tree.
I left her up there for two hours. Her meowing got progressively louder and there was a hint of sadness in her tone. I know cats are manipulative creatures but finally I thought I should do something.
A friend came over and gave me a ladder. I had no flashlight for him to use and I had no problem climbing a tree in the dark, I mean darkness means nothing from my perspective.
I climbed to the top of the ladder and as I did my forehead slammed into a pretty big tree branch. I paused and could feel a flap of skin that moments ago was not dangling from my forehead. I could also feel blood bubbling up out of the gash. At this point, I became angry wondering why I was up in a tree after 10:00 at night. I thought about leaving her up there, but instead I decided to keep climbing. As I reached the top of the ladder, I discovered I was too short to grab Farrah. I stepped on a branch and then proceeded to shimmy up the tree trunk. She was wedged in a tight space between two branches. I leaned way off to my left and after about a minute prodded Farrah to take a leap of faith on to my arm. She immediately ran up my arm and on to my shoulder. Farrah purred loudly as I worked my way back down the tree. Strangely, I enjoyed climbing up the tree, even though my head encountered a tree branch, more then I did climbing back down as going down is more challenging. As I put stuff on my cut Farrah stayed on my shoulder purring, apparently thrilled to be back inside.
Strangely, after that experience Farrah stopped trying to climb trees. I thought that this spring would be free of outdoor kitty adventures. I was wrong!
Farrah has gotten in the habit of sneaking out of my condo. She can open up my sliding screen door and slip outside undetected. Recently an out of breath neighbor knocked on my door holding Farrah in her arms. She said that she caught Farrah cruising down the street unattended. The very next day Farrah escaped again and met a new canine friend, Sosha. Sosha is a black lab puppy. Everyday Farrah escapes and she and Sosha playfully chase each other and stare nose to nose with one another. They truly have become friends in spite of my efforts to keep Farrah inside.
Each day truly is an adventure with Farrah. Whether she is stealing my food, plotting her next escape or jumping out of dresser drawers at me, I never know what to expect. One thing is for sure though; Farrah certainly has added some excitement to my life as she has become a much loved part of my family.
Farrah Featured in Jack Coleman's LOLZ
