Cat blog enthusiasts, you’re in for a treat. Meet Sasha.
Sasha was sent in this week by Christie Jardine, see below.
“Sasha was an adorable, grey Persian Himalayan that the Jardine family acquired in the year 1993.” Christie writes in. “She was our first ever pet! I was so excited because I loved cats.”
“Sasha was seriously adorable.” Christie continues. “She loved to cuddle, but was often shy and would hide in things.”
And as if all of this were not enough….please….contain yourselves, and if you’re holding anything spillsy, please put it down. Because when I saw this for the first time I laughed so hard I almost puked.
“So Sasha either loved to be on you, or tucked in or around things.” Christie continues. “This made her seem like a clingy, shy cat. Right? WRONG! Sasha was quite the harlot. If on you or tucked around things, she spent most of her day wishing she was an outdoor cat, meowing by the window, airing out her girly-parts.”
~~just to let you know…..it’s gonna get gross here….if you are weak stomached, please discontinue reading~~
My mother tried to make an honest feline out of Sasha by getting her a boyfriend named Beckett. He was a classy lad, always sitting in front of the TV spread-eagle, ignoring his lover. Beckett’s presence didn’t stop Sasha from flaunting her goods. She was NOT to be tamed. She was a wild woman, and we eventually just let her be.
So here’s what I didn’t mention about Sasha. Sasha’s favorite place to sleep was my forehead. She literally slept sprawled across my forehead every night EVER. God forbid I ever went on a sleepover! Sasha could not sleep without my lovely noggin beneath her tummy. For some reason I did not seem to mind this even though her tufts of fur plugged my nostrils. If Sasha was content, so was I. EXCEPT FOR THIS ONE TIME! So, as previously mentioned, Sasha the Strumpet was constantly pregnant due to her many nights gallivanting about the streets of South Berwick, Maine. Even when Sasha was really pregnant and became an uncomfortable Mommy-to-be, my head was always the perfect bed.
When I was younger I had problems with my ears which left me hearing impaired. I couldn’t even hear my own cat meowing painfully atop my own head! My mother could hear her down the hall, though. So one night, Sasha apparently meowing away on top of my face, my Mother came into my bedroom to see what the situation was. And boy, did we have a situation!
SASHA WAS IN LABOR! ON MY HEAD!
Now, there aren’t any pictures of this debacle, thank the LORD, but according to my Mom it was HILARIOUS… NOT! I can still remember her laughter! What a cruel mother. Upon the realization that there were kittens surrounded by a pool of afterbirth in my long, gorgeous hair, I began to sob. My mother tried to comfort me, but she was too busy laughing. She was not concerned about the fact that Sasha was in labor, since at this point Sasha was an expert. I did not know what to think of this ordeal.
Was Sasha just a bitch, or should I have been honored that she chose my head of hair for the birth place of her millionth litter of kittens? I decided that she was a bitch.
My relationship with Sasha was strained after the placenta-in-my-hair experience. While my mother has claimed that Sasha’s afterbirth is the serum that has kept my locks luscious to this day, I still look upon that night with less-than-fond memories. Sasha has since passed on and gone to that great can of tuna in the sky, and my family now breeds squishy-faced dogs instead of squishy-faced cats, but at least she has left one crazy cat story for me to tell.
When Christie first approached me via email with this story, she wrote that she had a tale to tell if I wanted to include it. ARE YOU KIDDING?? This is the stuff cat blogs are made of! I have little cat blog dreams about shit like this each night. My goodness gracious me.
I will conclude this blog the way Christie signed the email to me.