In the world of feline companionship, I’ve had the pleasure of sharing my life with two distinct cats, each with their own unique personalities and quirks. My British Shorthair, Carry, was my first feline friend, and from the moment I brought him into my life, he captured my heart with his endearing nature.
When I only had Carry, I was immediately struck by his gentle temperament and his inability to hold a grudge. Moving from Wuhan to Guangzhou and then to Shenzhen, he adapted to new environments with astonishing ease. In just half an hour, he would be exploring his new surroundings, never once hiding under the bed like some cats might. As long as I was home, he was full of energy, dashing around the house in what I affectionately called his “cat parkour” sessions. His curiosity knew no bounds, and he was always eager to investigate every nook and cranny.
One memorable incident in Guangzhou showed just how tough and resilient Carry was. I had forgotten to give him water for an entire week. All he did was meow around me incessantly. When I finally realized my oversight, I was amazed at how unaffected he seemed. He truly was a hardy little fellow.
However, my peaceful life with Carry took a turn when I decided to bring a Garfield into the mix. The Garfield proved to be at least a hundred times more troublesome than Carry. It had no idea how to bury its feces properly and had absolutely no self-control when it came to eating. Tragically, soon after the Garfield arrived, both cats came down with gastroenteritis and were vomiting non-stop. While Carry simply climbed up to the top of the tall wardrobe, slept for half a day, and then miraculously recovered on his own, the Garfield continued to vomit for a whole week. It cost me a couple of thousand yuan to get the Garfield back to health. Before the Garfield joined our family, I had no idea that cats needed probiotics or that it was best for them to drink boiled water. Carry was so low-maintenance that I could leave him at home during vacations without a worry. He never had issues with loose stools. But now, with the Garfield around, our home was filled with various health supplements. I had to keep the probiotics flowing, and the Garfield still frequently had soft stools and couldn’t manage to bury its waste. This was when I truly understood what it meant to have a high-maintenance cat.
Carry’s toughness extended beyond his physical health. I often took him out with me, and although he would be a bit scared at first, he quickly got used to it. I could take him to a hot pot restaurant, and he would comfortably lie on the floor, even snoring away. I even took him to play badminton, and he was never afraid of strangers. In fact, whenever someone reached out to pet him, he would stick his butt up high, clearly enjoying the attention.
Another wonderful trait of Carry’s was his lack of resentment. He was quite mischievous, constantly running around and play-fighting at home. If he knocked something to the ground, I would scold him, and he would retreat under the bed to “reflect.” But by the time I woke up from a nap, he would be right beside me, lying on my shoulder as if nothing had happened. When it came to his neutering, there was no need for any elaborate tricks. Every night, I would keep him in the bathroom with me while I showered, and he would patiently squat on the toilet lid until I was done, and then we’d leave together.
Carry also had a strong sense of being the master of the house. Since his “little brother,” the Garfield, couldn’t bury its feces, Carry would, no matter how sleepy he was, go and take care of it after the Garfield had finished. Their play-fights were more like Carry treating the Garfield as a mouse. He would let the Garfield run and then catch him, followed by a session of grooming. When the Garfield resisted and tried to hit his face, Carry would effortlessly hold him down with his strong paws, showcasing his impressive strength.
In contrast, I really couldn’t develop a deep affection for the Garfield. It was just too much trouble, and it seemed to have a lower IQ. Carry, on the other hand, was clean, white, and always had a pleasant smell to his fur. He was incredibly clingy in the most endearing way, not at all awkward. I could pet him anywhere on his body, and he didn’t mind if I even pulled his tail a bit. Every day, he would obediently accompany me to bed on time, and it was truly a source of great happiness. He especially loved to slouch on the floor and sleep in a starfish position, looking completely content.
In conclusion, Carry has been an absolute joy to have in my life. His unique personality and easy-going nature have made him an irreplaceable part of my world, and I cherish every moment spent with him.
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