Saturday afternoon: cuddling with cats
You’ve heard from Richter on a lot of important issues, from animal abuse to how stupid dogs are. But what is Richter really like? Is he really named after the thing that measures earthquakes? What does he do when not blogging? Read on to learn more.
One thing Richter loves is Saturday’s because he gets to spend more time with mom doing fun things like climbing:
He was far more interested in my water glass then he was in cuddling for a while. But then he got into a more cuddly mood.
Let’s get to know Richter a little better. First off, Richter was not named after the thing that measures earthquakes, he was named after New York Rangers goaltender Mike Richter. Mike Richter helped the Rangers win the Stanley Cup in 1994 and he will always be my favorite athlete no matter who else comes along because your favorite athletes are always the ones you watched growing up as a kid. Fun fact: my Puerto Rican grandmother thinks my cats name is “Richard” which I have to admit is a way funnier name for a cat.
Moving on. Richter is my first real pet. I had goldfish and parakeets growing up, but you can’t cuddle them and you barely have to do anything to keep them alive. When I graduated from college in 2009, I had to move back home and I decided it was time to get a cat. I always loved animals and was spending a lot of time at home job searching. Also, I had no friends. I knew once I got a job I would like to live in New York and a cat would be a great apartment pet with their mice hunting abilities and small size. So I said parents I’m getting a cat bye. Here he is the week we brought him home from the animal shelter. He was 3 months old.
I picked him out from his litter because he had beautiful green eyes, came right up to the crate to investigate and had that adorable little white spot on his face. He was also the only one out of his brothers and sisters who had some tan on him – all his siblings were just black and white. The first day I brought him home he slept on my bed with me and my heart basically exploded.
He’s very spoiled and doesn’t know how good he has it. He spends his days looking out the window at birds, eating, and when he feels like it, cuddling with me. He’s very friendly which is nice. Sometimes he bites but besides that I can’t really complain. And neither should he because this is his life:
I love coming home everyday because he comes right up to me and meows and is always super happy to see me. Or maybe he’s just hungry.
-Susan and Richter