My Nickname Was CAT LOSER In Someone’s Blog

Late Enough CatsWhen I lived in Saint Louis, I was alone with three cats in an apartment building erected in 1929. (Yes, I giggled at that word too.) I slept on my futon without pulling it into a bed. I didn’t even have pillows.

I worked second shift so I got off at 11 p.m., went home, or went drinking and went home, or went drinking, found a boy and EVENTUALLY went home, slept until 2 p.m. and went back work at 3.

Once a day my phone would ring. Now this is back in 2001. I was cheap and single and had dial-up. So it was my HOME PHONE with NO CALLER ID and often NOT at my designated periods of wakefulness of 2-3 p.m. and 2-3 a.m..

The calls were rarely HEY COME OUT WITH US YOU ARE SO AWESOME. But I was hopeful. And hungover. And too stupid to unplug my phone.

Instead I gave a weak: hello?

The EVERY SINGLE TIME my apartment manager replied: Is your cat in the stairwell?

Me: NO. Which one?

Apartment manager: Two of them.

Me: NO! They are ALL right here with me.

And then I would spend thirty minutes trying to find my three cats in four-hundred square foot studio apartment.

When enough time had passed (or the phone rang AGAIN), I would peek out my front door. If the hallway was clear, I would tiptoe like a ballerina on speed to the stairwell.


Two cats would look up at me. And the third one would be around the corner.

Me: Sorry guys.

And I’d tiptoe them home.

Thanks to Where Hot Comes To Die for reminding me of the awesomeness that is this story. Or at least reminding me that I was probably in someone’s blog as they listened to my cats meow down the hallway AGAIN.

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Alex Iwashyna

Alex Iwashyna went from a B.A. in philosophy to an M.D. to a SAHM, poet and writer by 30. She spends most of her writing time on, a humor blog (except when it's serious) about her husband fighting zombies, awkward attempts at friendship, and dancing like everyone is watching. She also has a soft spot for culture, politics, and rude Southern people who offend her Yankee sensibilities. She parents 2 elementary-aged children, 1 foster baby, 3 cats, and 1 puppy, who are all Southern but not rude. Yet.

17 thoughts to “My Nickname Was CAT LOSER In Someone’s Blog”

  1. Ah pets, and the trouble they cause. I woke up to find that my dog had peed and pooped right in the middle of the family room floor where my son plays all day. Awesome. 3rd time in 6 months since moving here. Seriously thinking about taking the collar off, opening the front door, and breathing a sigh of relief (calm down PETA and SPCA people – just a fantasy I have).

  2. That Is a great story! I love cats, they rule the world.
    I know the feeling. I have a large dog who occasionally escapes. He has never hurt a flea and even cleans “his” kitties but if he gets out my neighbors all start calling me one after another in a panic because they think he’s Cujo or something.

  3. I’ve never had cats… but can imagine that scenario happening if I did. And sometimes? I worry it might happen with my kids… kidding… kidding… 🙂

  4. During my partying phase of life I, too, lived in one such building and had a cat. She got stuck in the stairwell once. All night. I felt terrible about it, because she was like my child.

    1. Well, I imagine with the three hundred dogs in your apartment complex, you won’t have to worry about too many cat visits. And you might stop liking dogs soon, too.

  5. My husband thinks cats are possessed by the devil. But I like them. They are rude, hostile, aloof, suffocatingly sweet, and so much fun.

    Your story totally reminded me of the days when I actually answered my phone when it rang because otherwise, I might never know who called. Hard to believe we are so far away from those days already.

    Oh, and btw, I have already majorly failed at the no TV challenge. My husband let the kids watch like 3 hours yesterday morning while I slept in. I forgot about the husband factor. Ooops.

  6. When first married, we rented a farmhouse. Not the farm. Police often called to inform us that our COWS were out on the highway. Would have much rather rounded up cats. Also, I once looked up from the sink to see a cow staring me right in the eye. Afraid of cows to this day. xo

  7. Somebody came to my blog from this post today and so, of course, I had to click and come read because it sounded hilarious. It seemed especially relevant as I had just spent about 20 minutes talking about my cats to a really bored friend. It was all awkward and weird and I knew I had talked about my cat for far too long and yet I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I am probably being called a cat lady loser in a blog post right now.

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