Oscar was actually in existence before The Cat Spa ever was.
She — yes, she — was born in my bedroom when I was 12 years old, on May 12, 1983 (thus, she was a Taurus). We had taken in a pregnant black momma cat who gave birth to four all-black kittens one afternoon. It was a lot of fun living with all those kittens for a while, but the time came when my mom decided it was time for most of them to find new homes. I’m not sure how we came to keep Oscar, of all the kittens, but she was the lucky one…in more ways than one.
When Oscar was about one year old, she got out (or fell, we’ll never know) a screened window for her first and only venture into the outside world. It did not go well. All of us were gone to school or work, so we had no idea trouble was underfoot. A kindly neighbor was home and happened to see a German Shepard and a Doberman tossing around what appeared to be a small, black toy. Upon closer inspection, the neighbor realized the toy was actually a cat! She was able, somehow, to free Oscar from the dogs and took her into her home. Later that afternoon, my brother Tommy came home from work and the neighbor was coming over to ask Tommy if he knew who this cat belonged to, when Oscar shot out of the neighbor’s house straight across to ours — that was her answer.
But poor Tommy had to deal with the mess he was greeted with. It was painfully obvious that Oscar needed to get to a vet quickly, so Tommy dropped everything he was going, put Oscar in a box, and began driving her to our regular vet. Unfortunately, on the way his car broke down and he had to carry Oscar, in the box, and walk the rest of the way to the vet’s office. What an ordeal!
But it wasn’t over yet. Oscar had a collapsed lung, a broken leg, and lots of sores. The vet told my mom that Oscar was in bad shape, so we should just take her home to let her die in peace. But just in case, she gave us medication to give her twice a day, advised to feed her baby food, and to keep her separate from the other pets in the house.
So Oscar moved into my bedroom where I nursed her back to health. I diligently gave her the medications each day and hand fed her the baby food when I needed to. And when the vet called a week later to see what had happened, she was surprised to hear that My Oscar had survived.
So obviously Oscar became “my” cat; we had bonded. She tucked me into bed every night and was my girl until I grew up and moved away. My boyfriend was allergic to cats, so she couldn’t move with me. I was heartbroken, but knew she was in good hands staying with my mom.
Time passed. I found a new boyfriend who was not allergic to cats. Miles and Boris had found their way into our home. And my mom’s living situation was changing, so it was time for My Oscar to come live with us at The Cat Spa. Although it was a bit of a challenge for Oscar adjusting to life with two young boy cats…it was so nice having her back in my life! Eventually everyone worked out their differences and life at The Cat Spy fell into a comfortable routine.