Boo

visual artist, witch, Ghost/Fairy type Pokemon trainer, singer, and cosmetology student. nsfw, lgbt friendly, feminist friendly, body positive blog.
Home /Ask/ Submit/Twitter/Photos of Me!/Art blog!/Art Posted Here!/About Me and FAQ/ Archive
This is my cat. His name is Bandit, he is five years old, and has FIV.
I’m going to tell you all of the amazing things this cat has done for me, over the last five years I’ve owned him. But let me start with the night I met him.
I was on the phone with a long lost friend, reconnecting with him, as he lived in another state. The apartment next door to me, housed my Aunt, and her (at the time) four children. She opened the door to my apartment, as I was sitting delicately on the floor, talking to Alonzo, holding a very frightened kitten in her hands. She looked at me, and asked, “Is this yours?” I shook my head, as I was on the phone, “Well, it is now.” and plopped him on my carpet. He ran and hid under the kitchen table. I was the only one home.
I stared at him, as I got off the phone with my friend, and said, “Hey, c’mere, buddy.” he looked to be a few months old. Just barely weened, and all. “I bet you’re hungry. C’mere!” I cooed to him. He slowly came towards me, and smelled my hand. He allowed me to pet him. “Awh, you’re a sweetie, aren’t you?” I immediately fell in love with this cat. I had no idea what to name him. Not a one. I loved on him for a few hours, and then set him outside, with mushed up vienna sausages. I sat and watched him eat. He cuddled with me some more, then was on his way.
I would set out food for him every morning, and night, keeping him a secret from my mom. Until my aunt asked how the kitty was doing. Mom replied, “We don’t have a cat.”
My mom came home, not mad, but welcoming to the new addition to the family. As the neighbors noticed him hanging around our house, they laughed, “Looks like he belonged to you guys all along!” Our downstairs neighbor said, I looked confused, and asked what she meant. She said to me, that he had been breaking into all of the other apartments for places to sleep and such. It was then, that I knew his name was Bandit.
As Bandit grew older, I watched him grow from a frightened little kitten, to a fully grown tomcat. A tomcat who spent a lot of time outside, due to the fact that he never used his litter box, and a tomcat, who walked me to the bus stop, every morning before school. He would walk beside me, until I crossed the street. Once I was on the bus, he made his way to the porch of my home, to wait for me to get there. A tomcat who saved me from getting arrested once for being out past curfew.
A cop pulled up next to me, as I was walking, and asked me what I was doing out so late. Bandit zoomed across the highway, and sat in a bush, waiting for me to pick him up, I told the officer that I was out to get my cat home. I picked up Bandit, and he let me carry him the whole way home.
Not too long ago, he saved my life again. I had razors to my wrists, ready to cut, then I heard a slight, “Mew..?” as he walked into my bedroom, pushing the door open with his head. I put the razors away, and loved on my best friend of five years. He’s sleeping on my bed, curled up at the foot-side, and purring. He may have FIV, and may not live forever, but I’m glad I have him now.
Happy Birthday, Bandit. I love you.
I love you Bandit.

This is my cat. His name is Bandit, he is five years old, and has FIV.

I’m going to tell you all of the amazing things this cat has done for me, over the last five years I’ve owned him. But let me start with the night I met him.

I was on the phone with a long lost friend, reconnecting with him, as he lived in another state. The apartment next door to me, housed my Aunt, and her (at the time) four children. She opened the door to my apartment, as I was sitting delicately on the floor, talking to Alonzo, holding a very frightened kitten in her hands. She looked at me, and asked, “Is this yours?” I shook my head, as I was on the phone, “Well, it is now.” and plopped him on my carpet. He ran and hid under the kitchen table. I was the only one home.

I stared at him, as I got off the phone with my friend, and said, “Hey, c’mere, buddy.” he looked to be a few months old. Just barely weened, and all. “I bet you’re hungry. C’mere!” I cooed to him. He slowly came towards me, and smelled my hand. He allowed me to pet him. “Awh, you’re a sweetie, aren’t you?” I immediately fell in love with this cat. I had no idea what to name him. Not a one. I loved on him for a few hours, and then set him outside, with mushed up vienna sausages. I sat and watched him eat. He cuddled with me some more, then was on his way.

I would set out food for him every morning, and night, keeping him a secret from my mom. Until my aunt asked how the kitty was doing. Mom replied, “We don’t have a cat.”

My mom came home, not mad, but welcoming to the new addition to the family. As the neighbors noticed him hanging around our house, they laughed, “Looks like he belonged to you guys all along!” Our downstairs neighbor said, I looked confused, and asked what she meant. She said to me, that he had been breaking into all of the other apartments for places to sleep and such. It was then, that I knew his name was Bandit.

As Bandit grew older, I watched him grow from a frightened little kitten, to a fully grown tomcat. A tomcat who spent a lot of time outside, due to the fact that he never used his litter box, and a tomcat, who walked me to the bus stop, every morning before school. He would walk beside me, until I crossed the street. Once I was on the bus, he made his way to the porch of my home, to wait for me to get there. A tomcat who saved me from getting arrested once for being out past curfew.

A cop pulled up next to me, as I was walking, and asked me what I was doing out so late. Bandit zoomed across the highway, and sat in a bush, waiting for me to pick him up, I told the officer that I was out to get my cat home. I picked up Bandit, and he let me carry him the whole way home.

Not too long ago, he saved my life again. I had razors to my wrists, ready to cut, then I heard a slight, “Mew..?” as he walked into my bedroom, pushing the door open with his head. I put the razors away, and loved on my best friend of five years.
He’s sleeping on my bed, curled up at the foot-side, and purring. He may have FIV, and may not live forever, but I’m glad I have him now.

Happy Birthday, Bandit. I love you.

I love you Bandit.

Tagged: #my cat #cats #i love my cat #fucking cats #FIV #feline aids #ily

  1. secrets-in-disguise reblogged this from the-borghal-rantipole
  2. steorn reblogged this from the-borghal-rantipole
  3. stealinthestars reblogged this from jaiceybell
  4. the-borghal-rantipole reblogged this from jaiceybell
  5. jaiceybell posted this