Monday, June 4, 2007

The Story of Lily/William

When William was Lily:

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William loves to oversee and is very regal about it.



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William is one brave kitty. Here he is not only enjoying the dogs' bed, but he is claiming all their favorite bones for himself although he doesn't even like bones:


Well, almost there. Only two more pets to write essays about.

William's arrival is really the most complicated and strange story of all of them, however.

He was my Mother's Day gift of 2005. I really wanted a siamese kitten for the longest time. When we lost Henry (ooops, another pet story coming later), I just kept thinking about it even more.

I started out by checking classified ads in the paper, then breeders (ouch big $$$), and finally resorted to calling pet shops. I know -- this is SO politically incorrect. And it will become even more evident as this tale unfolds just why we are all advised to NOT adopt from a pet shop.

Well, I did manage to find a pet shop that had a litter of Siamese kittens and the price was $400 per kitty which really was a bargain. Yes, compared to the prices I had seen.

So I went directly there and told the young employee that I wanted a *female* Siamese kitten. She plucked two of them out of the cage and told me to choose. After some thought, but not much because they really looked identical, I picked one and charged her on my credit card.

According to the 'rules' of the pet shop, in order for the pet to be guaranteed, it had to have an exam by the veterinarian that the pet shop chose, so in a few days I took Lily, my little kitten, for her initial exam. She was pronounced healthy and adorable and all was good.

Until, I took her for her first shots to my own vet. Dr. Roy picked her up and said, "There is a problem." What?! My perfect little kitty had a problem? And he further explained, "Lily is a BOY!"

Oh no! I did NOT want a boy kitty. I've had boy kitties before. Both Reuben and Henry both suffered from FUS (feline urinary syndrome) which causes blockages and all kinds of bad things and is more prevalent in male cats. After losing two male cats to this, I was positive I did not want any more boy kitties. And here I was, already in love with Lily, and Lily had turned into a BOY.

I knew I didn't want to return her/him to the pet shop hell. But now I was pretty angry. So I called the pet shop and spoke to the owner who had the personality of a turnip.

I explained the problem and asked how in the world could his employee have told me that a male kitty was a female? He laughed and said, 'well nobody's perfect' and pretty much said - too bad for you!

Now I was no longer just hissing, but my claws were out also.

I called my credit card company and they asked if the pet shop owner had offered to take the kitty back. WHAT? Obviously, not a pet owner. You don't have an adorable kitten for two weeks who now sleeps on the back of your neck, purrs when you pick it up, and comes running when you say "Lily, Lily!" - and just bring it back to pet shop hell to sleep in a wire cage.

So, I said no he didn't. The pet hater then said I should call him and ask him to take the kitten back and ask for a refund or to exchange him for a female kitten.

I thanked her for the excellent advice, hung up, and called back in the hope of speaking to someone else who actually owned a pet. And I got lucky the second time. The next person was horrified and thought that there was no way that I should tear the purring kitty from my son's grasp and bring her/him back to the wicked pet shop owner. She said she would immediately apply a dispute to the charge and send me a form to fill out.

The rest was simple. I filled out the form, said that I had paid for a female Siamese kitten, took it for its initial exam by the vet that was chosen by the pet shop who did not even diagnose her maleness, and that in the end I was stuck with a male kitten who would, in my mind, end up sickly and dead by age 3.

And the charge was reversed.

Lily became William. He is happy, healthy, feisty, believes he is a dog, and loves to jump on my shoulders from behind. Otherwise, I like him. The rest of the family - well, I'm not sure. He can become violent unexpectedly, especially if you touch the back of his particular chair in the kitchen. That really bothers him.

His favorite game, other than playing wrestling with Teddy the dog, is hide & seek. I will go up the stairs and hide behind a door, or in the bathroom right off the hallway, or sometimes in the bedroom. He will then go running up and look for me. Then I jump out at him and he jumps back. At this point, it is his turn to hide. He usually hides behind the shower curtain, between the tub and the curtain, and neglects to hide his tail. I don't think he realizes that hiding in the same place makes the game less than challenging for me.

In the end, I have to admit that I'm pretty happy I have William. And the price wasn't bad either.