Olaf…Or: How I Learned That Cats Rule and I’m The Human Slave

I grew up with dogs.  My parents had 40 and then 80 acres of land, so having a dog made sense.  The first one was a golden lab and then a chocolate lab mixed with chesapeake.  Those were two wonderful dogs from what I could remember.  We also had a cat, but it stayed outside and somehow lived a very long life catching mice and what not, since we only gave her water occasionally. It wasn’t until I was older and lived with my friends Corey & Tiff that I realized how much I love cats. Corey was allergic to cats, but luckily Tiff made him live with one when they got Buster.  I moved in with them several years later, but I often got to see Buster and quickly grew to like playing with him and petting him.  Later on, Izzy and Penny would join the clan and I kinda wanted one of my own, but wasn’t sure if I could handle one or not.

Then I started dating a girl named Mandy, who had a fiesty tabby cat called Dylan.  I was told that Dylan hardly liked anyone, but for some reason he liked me. Yeah he was a beast, and would occasionally bite you for no reason (at least no reason you understood), but overall he was pretty cute and loving.  Mandy knew some people who helped rescue cats and before you knew it, we were adopting a very cute and still growing one that I named Ian, after Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull.  Since I didn’t live with Mandy, she was going to take care of him for the time being since I didn’t know if my apartment would allow cats.  I eventually checked and found out they did with a deposit and extra rent (which is typical and kinda lame).  But between this time, Mandy and I broke up and also Ian wasn’t getting along with King Dylan so he was sent back to the animal people. 

My relationship with Pam & Suzie (the animal people) was brief but good and they were more than willing to set me up with a rescued cat named Olaf.  They found him frozen to the ground and the tops of his ears became frostbitten and the skin fell off.  He was mostly white like a snowman, hence the reference to the movie Frozen.  They convinced me that he’d be an awesome cat, and now that I could get one in my apartment and was ready for one…he was forced up on me!  Just kidding hehe.  Since I had no desire to see the movie Frozen, I tried to think of a good name for him. Alas, I determined that Olaf would still be fitting.  He looks like a mini-polar bear and Olaf is a Scandanavian name.  There’s polar bears up north, and scandanavians up north…so therefore his name would stay.  I know, great logic.

I loved my furry white Olaf.  I hated the white hair all over my clothes, but I dealt with it.  He also had a thick whine to his meows, that was cute sometimes, but annoying when he was relentless at wanting something.  I soon found out the things he loved: the nip banana, the lazer pointer, food, sleep, licking water from the bathtub, laying on me and licking his paws like he was on a mission. Most of all he liked to rub his head against mine. It was super cute.

He never got sick. He never ate my plants or chewed on cords.  He never scratched or bit (besides some playful nibbling).  He was a great cat!  When I moved to Boise, I had to have him stay with Pam & Suzie until I could find a place that allowed cats.  Luckily it was only for 2 months, and I sure missed him.  He sure missed me too because in their house he wasn’t the only cat.  They had lots of cats running around and he wasn’t able to be King Olaf all the time.  Poor baby, right? 

So in August 2015 he flew through the skies and landed here with that constant whine all the way home.  This new place was bigger than my studio apartment, and I think he enjoyed the extra space.  He did meow a lot and even paw at my roommates’ door when he closed it.  Extra annoying for me and him, and sometimes Olaf was put in his food and litter room.

Later than year I decided I wanted to live in a van. For a while, I thought I could get something that could accomodate him in.  I thought that if I insulated it enough, he could be shielded from the elements.  Unfortunately the 100 degree summer days wouldn’t be very fair to him while I was working.  It might be a different story if I wasn’t working, and just traveling because then I could put the air on for him or open the doors.  I’m sure he wouldnt mind laying all over everything too, hehe.  But the smell from his litter box would drive me nuts.  I found out he urinated mewon my guitar bag, keyboard bag and another little bag…all black…when I moved.  I currently have my guitar in my van, so I still get a whiff of the cat piss soaked into the bag and I want to throw it away.  I think I will get a new guitar bag anyways.

So yeah, considering the circumstances of weather, space and having to work days of sometimes 12 hours or more, I figured it wouldn’t be fair for him to stay with me.  I made arrangements to send him back to Suzie (Pam has up and moved to New Hampshire) so she could find him a new home.  He will be a loving and welcomed addition into any home, especially one without a cat already.  He likes being king, and isn’t actually to demanding.  I mean he sleeps a lot.  But beware, whenever you look at him, he notices and wants your attention. 

I will miss him a lot and I can’t help thinking I abandoned him in some way.  The poor guy almost froze to death and is so sweet, it’s ridiculous.  He probably thinks nobody loves him now, but if somehow we can communicate to cats, I’m telling him that I do love him and will always think of him as my buddy.  This will forever be my cellphone lock-screen background: