Fatty and Bentley's Story

Fatty and Bentley are turning 11 this year and are celebrating in style.



"Seriously? You really enjoy doing this each year...interrupting my nap to tell me how I was born scrawny" well, yes, I do.



"Let's nap through this"

 While they might not give a care about their birthday, I do and am thankful they entered my life. They are funny, thoughtful and very smart. Around their birthday I usually tell them how it all started while they purr around me and wait for the end when they get a larger than normal portion of food.

It all started in a chilly spring day in 2002. I was 19 and had just spent my first few months of freedom living in my own apartment and going to college. My income at 19 could afford a crappy apartment, but it was mine. I shared it with a beta fish called Sampson. He was blue, elegant and serene. I also shared that apartment with some strange noises in the ceiling that I interpreted as squirrels. As any young woman would do, I set out to find a good cat to shoo away those pests in the ceiling. I had about $100 dollars to my name, maybe, more than likely I had $40 and took myself to the local animal shelter. I was on the hunt for a good, mature, serious housecat. The kind that would take noises in the ceiling seriously and bring a sense of order to the chaos that lived in my roof.

The Millersville, Md SPCA was a few blocks from my house and I arrived with the idea of the perfect professional hunter cat in mind. The administrative assistant ushered me into the cat room where there were a series of little cat jails each with a cat and a description of the age, sex and behavior of that cat. There were plump cats, glum cats and talkative cats. The place smelled of bleach and cat sand. I looked at one grey one and she was so beautiful and elegant. She wouldn't do: to dainty to rid my noises. Then I looked in one cage and saw two scrawny kittens: one sleeping in the litter box (classy) and the other howling the tiniest little howls at the moon. They were adorable but really small like 5 inches long. What could their little squeaks do shoo away the noises? The cat attendant told me the kittens were separated from their mother in banks of the Chesapeake Bay where they were born. The howling one (Fatty) followed his brother (Bentley). The kittens were put in separate cages upon their arrival but Fatty cried so much for his brother that they put them together in the same cage. I looked at them and shook my head. Two was too many. Then a boisterous woman with an army of loud mean looking kids came in the cat room. They wanted kittens. The loud kids ran over to the kittens cage tripping over their untied muddy shoe laces and I impulsively told the cat attendant that I would buy the kittens. And there I was, at the desk paying forty dollars for two wimpy scrawny sickly kittens with my grocery money. It was a pitiful sight worthy of Les Miserables.

Living on a dream of tuna fish and love.

I took the two little guys home and sat on my bare living room floor with them.

I didn't have a couch yet. Fatty took to crying then sucked on my finger in consolation. He must have been taken from his mom way too small. I noticed that all of his bones were showing through his fur and that his tiny droplet of a nose bled often. My dad kicked in support for the veterinarian bill to heal Fatty from his bloody nose. Soon the kittens started to grow, chase each other, sleep for hours then run circles around my empty apartment like Ben Hur's chariot race. Sampson, the fish, got two observers. The kittens would sit on each side of his fish bowl and stare at him. The poor fish would get anxiety and twirl in circles and one day he just had enough, had a heart attack and floated to the top. For the next two years the kitties fluffed out and grew and grew and grew and grew.

Then I discovered that they are Maine Coon cats and the very largest of cats in the world. Mine are about as big as cocker spaniels.

then. the couch was all mine.




now. share? you want to share the couch? get your own couch, lady.



then. as big as a couple of apples.

now. blue ribbon worthy watermelons.

That is the end of their beginning. They are the best fluffiest cats a girl could wish for.

And for the sake of tradition, here are 11 years x 2 cats = 22 things I learned along the way from owning these guys:

1. You never really own a cat. They do what they want and occasionally acknowledge your effort. 

2. When they eat, you feel skinny. Fatty and Bentley can eat as much as I do and eat like snorting pigs.

3. Cat's can help you relax. Petting the kitties makes me feel better. A nice husband, clean toilet and a pair of good cats is just about all I need to be happy in life.

4. They don't care what you think of them. A great philosophy to have in life.

5. Petting their fur makes you realize that the fur industry is really mean.

6. Their fights always end up with hours of self-reflection in a dark corner.

7. They sleep when they need to.

8. They run away from people who are mean or people who sneeze. I think this is an important lesson.

9. They don't talk much but get their point across very well.

10. Cat's are effortlessly elegant. Their secret? Posture. Walk, sit and move like a cat to get your way.

11. Distain your enemies and they will feel like dung flies. Seriously. Have you ever seen a scowel from a cat? Their silent eyes say words Obama couldn't conjure up with a team of speech writers.

12.  Observe your enemies in slience making them nervous till they drop dead. The same happened to Sampson the fish and Bunny the rabbit. Not one scratch, they simply got stared down.

13. Bentley drank like a camel when he was sick. Fatty didn't move from the couch for weeks. Lesson: drink water and relax when you are sick. Listen to your primal insticts.

14. It's ok to have a broken heart and hold on to the one you love. Fatty ADORES my mom. When she left he quit eating, lost weight and nearly died till I found her old sweater (she inteded for me to take it to goodwill). He sulked on that sweater for months. After I washed it I put it on the top of a shelf and he jumped 5 feet to reach it. It's ok to love even if it hurts and you do all you can to remember the one you love.

15. Cat's save lives. I will never forget the time they woke me up from a bad accident.

16. They don't like arguing. If we ever speak in loud tones they start smacking each other. It's funny but also reminds me to keep it down.

17. Bentley and Fatty still like to explore new things, even in their advanced age. For them, living is worth exploring even slowly with arthritis and one good tooth.

18. Dont eat new things in advance age....Bentley ate a plastic bag. Whole. It came out the other end. Whole.

19.  Be careful jumping. Don't over estimate the height you can jump from. As you get older the landing gets rougher in every sense: physical and emotional.

20. Have your spot and stick to it. The cats each have their spot on the couch and they know that is their spot. Sneaking up on them to take their spot throws them for a loop. It's like knowing your spot in life and sticking to it. Whatever you eat, expolore or smack just know that you always have that spot that is unwavering for you to come back to rest to.

21. Duck tape and dangerous toys: don't play with them or you might get stuck for hours.

22.  When all else fails and it sounds like your world is ending (or just getting vaccuumed) hide in a box till it passes.