Mister is the name of my cat. He’s also known as My Mister or Mister Mister. And no, I didn’t name him after the cat in the Dresden Files. I hadn’t read those books before I named Mister. I still haven’t read them, actually, but enough people have asked me that question that I’m given to understand there’s a cat named “Mister” in those books. I guess. ^_^ Anyway, Mister looks like a Mister to me, and thus he was named so. I got him from my youngest daughter, and I don’t even remember where she said she got him. She didn’t have him for very long. Not nearly the eight years that I’ve had him, because he’s about ten years old, and well… you do the math. ^_^ Anyway, I didn’t really care where he came from… he was a cool cat. I adored him then, and I adore him now. I believe his name was El Diablo or something like that. I didn’t pay much attention to what his name was because he wasn’t keeping it. He was Mister to me, and Mister he remained. Mister knows his name and will come when called. He’s a smart cat and knows the hand that feeds him.
Mister is a fat cat. He was fat when I got him –about 25 pounds and he’s been fat since. I’ve tried many many ways to slim him down, but he has always remained fat. As I mentioned, he’s about ten years old now, according to the vet’s best estimate, and thinner than he’s ever been. I don’t think he will get much smaller. It’s not good to put a cat on a diet and make them lose a lot of weight. Too much dieting will make them susceptible to fatty liver disease. Way back when I first got Mister, his obesity concerned me, especially since we lived in such cramped quarters, so I reached out for help about kitty weight loss online with this question and got a lot of good advice. Mister became a much healthier cat after I asked that question. He’s never gonna be slim, trim, and svelte like the little 8 pounders most people are used to, but he’s at least healthy-ish. I believe he weighs about 19 pounds now. Much better than 25. He’s still bigger than Poptart, our Chihuahua mix (photo evidence below).
As I mentioned in the linked question above, Mister and I lived in an 18 foot motorhome for a little under a year, back in 2010. The picture above is him sitting in the window of said home, and the picture to the side is him chilling out on the bed. He was actually pretty nonchalant about the whole thing. His favorite activity was to hang out on the dashboard and watch the world go by. We had a bit of a scare in Mississippi during the summer because it got way too hot, but we worked around it. I used to take him on walks at night to stretch his legs. He enjoyed them. Yes, a cat that walked. I don’t have any pictures of that, but it happened. I don’t take him on walks now because I have a quarter acre fenced yard that he romps about in. And he much prefers that. He’s too old and fat to jump over the fence, so I’m okay with him going outside. There aren’t any birds he can reach out there — he totally doesn’t jump, they’d have to walk up to him for him to catch them — but there’s plenty of mice for him to hunt if they come too close.
Mister is probably one of the coolest cats I’ve ever run across, let alone owned. He and and I complement each other very nicely. We’re both very “Whatever, man.” when it comes to life. If only he didn’t get up so early in the morning and demand to be fed. Ha! Now, I’m an early riser myself, but I get up with the sun, so if the sun doesn’t poke its head over the horizon until eight, I’m not getting up until eight. But Mister is all, “Hey, you fed me once at five am, like way back in 2010. Can you do that again? Please?” He’s got a memory like a steel trap, that one. Especially when it comes to food. I’ve had to start closing the door to my bedroom because I wasn’t getting any sleep (poor Mister). I mean, Mister thinks 2:30 AM is snuggle time and 5:00 AM is food time. I go to bed most nights at midnight-thirty, so being woken up by a 20 pound cat on my chest two or three times a night demanding snuggles and/or food wasn’t conducive to a good night’s sleep. Bless his little heart. Also, he’s a big fan kneading biscuits and of love bites. So there’s that. There’s nothing like being bitten out of the blue to wake a person up. Luckily, he’s not a vocal cat. He sees that the door is closed and is like, “Oh well, I’ll wait.” But as soon as the door is open, he’s off to where the food is stored. Because the poor thing is wasting away to practically nothing.
As I mentioned, Mister is about ten years old, which makes him the oldest of our pets. Now, American Shorthair cats (which Mister is, I think) live to be anywhere from 15-20 years. Mister, however is obese, I mean there’s no way around that, and has already given us two scares with a blocked urinary tract. The last time he was blocked, the doctor told us that we would have to either do an expensive surgery to remove his penis or put him down. We chose to do neither and brought him home after they removed the blockage. We figured we’d at least give him a chance to heal on his own instead of subjecting him to a surgery that may or may not work. That was two years ago. We have him on a special diet for cats prone to blockage, and feed him wet food too. But we’ve also resigned ourselves to the fact that Mister is living on borrowed time since his appears to be prone to urinary blockage and it’s just a matter of time before he’s blocked again. He may not see his full twenty years. But hey, he’s lived a good long life as it is, and I’m happy to have had him these last eight years. I’ll cherish whatever time I have left with him.
For now though, he appears to be a happy, healthy cat even with the extra pounds. And Doug and I are taking it one day at a time. I just wish that Mister and Poptart got along better. He gets along fine with Cocoa. Cocoa and Mister are like best buds. They share spaces all of the time. A lot of the time if you can’t find Mister, he’s in Cocoa’s kennel, just chilling out like it ain’t no thing. They don’t, like, groom each other or anything, but I’ve seen them sleeping side by side on the bed, and they often butt heads in a friendly manner. Mister and Brandy on the other hand, are akin to roommates who are low-grade hostile, but tolerate the fact that they’re forced to live in the same space. They don’t fight (much, twice — maybe three times — in the six years they’ve been cohabiting) but they aren’t exactly warm toward the other. They studiously avoid one another I guess is the best way to put it. But Mister and Poptart? They barely tolerate each other. It’s an… uneasy truce is a good term for how they act. I suppose I should be happy that they don’t fight. Because I think that Mister can take Poptart in a one to one. But if a fight broke out, well… it would be a free for all, wouldn’t it? Unlucky for me Mister is an instigator. He likes to get on Poptart’s nerves… push his buttons. Then run and hide. The little sneak.
So, that’s My Mister. He’s my cat, and I love him. Mister and I have been through a lot together, and he’s taken it like a champ. He’s way more chill than most cats I’ve known or had. And, I’ve had him longer than any pet I’ve ever owned. He’s been in my life longer than Doug has. I left Mister with a friend of mine in Mississippi for a brief period when I moved to New Mexico (no pets allowed in the apartment), but Doug and I went and got him after we moved in together, and I’m so glad we did. Turns out, Doug is allergic to cats — which he totally knew — but for some reason, he doesn’t seem to react that strongly to Mister. Even so, he was willing to live with Mister despite his allergy, bless his heart. Gotta love a man who’s willing to suffer for love. ^_^ Turns out I’m allergic to cats too. Highly allergic it seems. I appear to be allergic to dogs too, but not as allergic as I am to cats. A fact I didn’t know until after I adopted and fell in love with this kooky cat. Because of our mutual allergies, I don’t think Doug and I will get another cat after Mister Mister passes, but until then, he will have a loving and happy home with us. He’s brought much joy into my life, and I hope I’ve brought as much joy into his.