Ed came to us from my sister who felt it would no longer be fair to Ed for her to keep him. When she found him 14 years ago, he was one of many helpless kittens left in a box outside a soup kitchen in Toledo, OH where she had been volunteering. Just big enough to fit in the palm of her hand, she pleaded with my mom to bring him home. “Only if you get him declawed,” my mother said, fearful for her furniture.
For years, they lived happily, even blissfully, sometimes with roommates – both human and animal, and other times, just the two of them. But Ed did better when he had companions while my sister was at work for long hours. When they moved to Atlanta, he really started having problems. My sister’s studio apartment had no direct sunlight, and the only windows faced a brick wall, so he only occasionally had a bird or random squirrel to watch while she was gone. He quickly got bored with the toys and boxes my sister left for him to play with and he meowed incessantly when she got home, begging for attention through the night. In the spring, he started itching profusely from flea bites even though he’d never been outside. He stopped eating and started losing weight. Local vets said they’d never had so many fleas. They had been getting through people’s screens, and the vet clinics and stores were sold out of medication. My sister ended up having to purchase meds online, but at that point, Ed’s bony frame had started losing hair, his own scratches were becoming infected, and he cried all the time. She called me so upset not knowing what to do, what was a sister to do?
Now Ed resides with us and is back to his happy, healthy self, if not with a pesky pound or two more than he needs. Don’t be fooled by his severe features. His high cheek bones, deep set eyes, and regal pose make him look like a grumpy old man or a fierce sphinx from Egypt. But he is the biggest love baby ever. There’s nothing more he likes to do than snuggle with a human and enjoy some shared body heat. If that’s not possible, just hanging out nearby. like in a window perch, is the next best thing. He’s a perfect gentleman with my female cat, Mona, and a good enough companion for Snack, although he’d prefer it if Snack were more submissive as he’s a little set in his ways.
Ed is litter box trained and stays indoors, spending his hours either napping or looking for love. If given the opportunity, he’ll lay in the sunshine on the front porch, but rarely ventures any further out into the yard. His lack of front claws keeps him wary of danger.
One little quirk I’ve noticed about him is his unbelievable craving for cheddar cheese. Yes, just cheddar. And he knows the sound of the plastic coming off of it, so he’ll make his way from wherever he is to wherever IT is, to try to get some for himself if it’s not given freely. Another little quirk is his insistence on sitting either on my lap or on the computer whenever I’m at my desk. It’s hard to count the number of times I’ve had to use the delete button because he likes walking across the keyboard so much. (;alskdjf99999999999999)
He is anything but “Fast Eddie,” as Bill calls him. He gingerly walks around because he’s a bit of a klutz as far as cats go. But Ed is the purrrfect lap cat, tidy and friendly, sweet and accommodating; an overall wonderful furry feline.