In my life “before Ginger,” I never really cared for cats.
When I first met my future wife, she informed me that she had a cat—Ginger—that she had rescued several years earlier from a local animal shelter. When we started dating I rationalized that as long as the cat stayed at her home it would be fine.
The time finally came when I asked my future wife to marry me, and luckily for me she accepted my proposal. During the time we were dating I hadn’t really been around Ginger. My wife had never pushed me to get to know her, knowing that I was not a cat lover by any stretch of the imagination. When my wife informed me that Ginger was going to be moving with us to our new home in another state, I put my foot down and said “over my dead body.” No way did I want that cat living in the same house as me—but we reached a compromise…and the cat came with.

She was probably calculating in her head that I wasn’t going anywhere—and the more I thought about it, I knew for sure she wasn’t going anywhere. I patted my hand on my lap. In less than a second Ginger jumped up on that couch and planted herself on my lap (which by the way is now her favorite place to take a cat nap).
I could go on and on about all the things I told my wife that the cat would never, ever be allowed to do—like sleeping on the bed or jumping on the couch; or the things that I would never, ever do—like cleaning her litter box or feeding her. Of course, that was then.
Five years later I can tell you that I have never loved or cared for an animal as much as I love and care for that cat!
Ginger is quite the character. She has brought me much happiness and calmed me down in many ways. All those things I said she would never, ever do when she came to live with us, well, she is doing them. And I am doing all those things I said I would never, ever do…and more. Funny thing is, I don’t mind it one bit.
—Rudy Fourzan, Jr., Murrieta, California
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