As many of you may remember, Shroder recently crossed the Rainbow bridge,
while remembering him I got to thinking about his early days with us and
how he became my cat, and how I became a cat person.
Our kids, the two who were at home, wanted a dog to replace the one that
died a couple of years before. Of course, when I pointed out that we
lived in an apartment now, and that the dog would need to be walked
several times a day, they said that they would do it. Meaning specifically
that mom and dad would do it. We refused. But our daughter wanted a cat.
She started to badger us to get a kitten. Specifically an orange tabby
male kitten.
Finally, we were at a restaraunt one evening. Myself, my wife, our 16 year
old son and our 13 year old daughter. And I finally relented, and said
that she could get a kitten. If she cared for it, fed it, cleaned the
litter box, and whatever. Of course she said of course she would.
And right in front of my eyes the classified ads appeared. Quickly,
too quickly, they located a kitten for sale. Grabbing my cell phone
the called the person, got directions (written on the margins of the
news paper) and we were off. After wandering around a while we found the
house with the cats.
And of course we got an orange tabby male kitten. Just 8 weeks old, and
as cute as can be. But I did not touch the cat then. I only got to touch
my wallet as I paid for it. We then headed home, and my wife, son and
daughter argued over who got to hold the cat. All the while it wanted
to climb all over the place, including on me.  Then they started trying
to come up with a name. After a few minutes of that, I suggested
Shrodinger. As in Shrodinger's cat. (if you don't know, look it up).
They all insisted that I didnt' know what I was talking about and
name was Shroder. But they liked it, and Shroder was named. It was only
a few weeks later that I expained to them what I meant. Got some dirty
looks for that, I'll tell you.
On the way home we had to stop for supplies, kitty food, litter, litter
box, toys, whatever else my wallet would support. At home the cat was
allowed to explore his new home, which he did. And I asked just the first
of the many stupid questions regarding the cat. Who is going to put the
litter in the box?  I then asked if I could put it in the kitchen. And
that was number 2 stupid question. Since we had a bath with a shower that
nobody used but me, guess where the litter box went.
And for stupid questions number 3 and 4, who is going to feed him and
where are you going to put the food and water? After I set up the litter
box, the water bowl, and the food bowl, all in my bathroom, I showed
Shroder where they were. Then sat on the toilet to watch. And that was
just the beginning of his attachment to me.
I went out to the living room, followed by Shroder, and sat at the
computer. Everyone else was busy trying to play with him. But he grew
tired, quickly, and came over to me to be picked up. So I did and he
took a nap in my arms. When I went to bed, I had to leave the bedroom
door open so he could come in and use the bathroom as he needed. However,
I had barely gotten into bed before he was trying to climb up. I helped
him up, lay on my side, and shut my eyes. Then my daughter said "Oooh
how cute". I opened my eyes and looked at Shroder, he was standing on
his hind legs, and resting his front legs on my hip, looking at the
activity in the hall. He then lay back down, curled up, and went to
sleep. When my wife came to bed, she had to move him so she could lay
down. In the days and weeks that followed, Shroder naturally came to
me, partly because I never made a fuss, but I was always the one to
feed him, and clean his litter box. No matter how hard my daughter tried
he was bound to me.
And that is how Shroder became mine.
Or as one coworker said, you feed them, you change their litter, you
take them to the vet, they are yours.