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Tom the Lion/Cat

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Tom, 3 year old Maincoon (Mancoon?) cat. Weight is my mom's car. Claws, still piercing inside my jeans and shirts when he gets the chance of every second of my day -_-' Halloween eyes that match his fur color; orange. Duh.

How I got him? My bitch sister, about 2 years ago, wanted a cat for her 17th b-day on Christmas Eve. My mom said 'no' a trillion and 1 times over and over for her to run off (again) and be missing. Well, she found a family on Craigslist in our town who owned cats and needed Tom here to find a home. The couple had a baby and needed to get rid of him, so he wouldn't harm the child... Likable story, huh :/

In that result, she brought Tom home! Fucking bitch was ignoring him the second she stepped in the door; I already started to like him, cause he scratched my sister up and ran off somewhere in our home. I'll admit that beside his 'greeting', I didn't like him enough to wanna keep him. I threatened my sister to ditch him, but she turned my odds against it and 'promised' she take care of it. I didn't do it for her. I did it for Tom because sadly, he was infested with fleas and ticks :(

She bawled and cried to me for help, and we forced him into a bath in our tub; he didn't appreciate being closed up in the sink. Poor thing. We had to bath him in dog shampoo because we rarely gave Nemo bathes and we had our dog then, so no choice but to lather him up in strong shampoo. I've seen cats bathed in dog shampoo and surprisingly, it works better to kill the insects upon their furs.

For 2 hours we were in our bathroom, fighting Tom down, scrubbing every inch of his skin, and picking off fleas; I almost threw up. Once he was wet, you could see black things crawl over his eyes and into his mouth for better shelter of being killed. This poor cat was in hell and my sister wasn't much help for this cat was basically having an anxiety attack from this torture. He was confused. And all his 'master' could do was cry and scrub for his sake.

After 2 hours, bitch decided to take him out and I offered to put him in the basement. Our basement is freezing cold and big enough for him to move around so he can pick off the rest of the fleas. Those things wouldn't survive since they were suffocated in shampoo and hot water, the cold air would paralyze'em and die. Cats survive in the cold. I've seen it a hundred times, plus this cat had enough body fat to go on a day or two in the basement. My sister was against it, but agreed when we left food and water down there.

The ending is long but to make it short, my sister ditched Tom and left me incharge to take care of him. I was so mad and sickened by my sister; one of her many surprises of being a bitch. I knew this would happen and I fell for it...again! She didn't want the responsiblity of raising this cat, when he was almost dying from blood loss and starvation. I don't know what those people did to him, but today if I ever find them, I'm gonna show off a picture and tell how lucky I am to have Tom in my life.

Nemo took charge of Tom and showed him around like he was his long-lost friend :) I was so proud of him. Tom hid from us for a week when I let him free from the basement. I checked every fur on him (with mom's help of holding him) and he was clean. For months, mom and I barely noticed Tom was in our lives and we were on the ping-pong frustration of keeping him or not. It was my deciscion and I loved this cat enough. I said yes.

I am proud to have him as my son and in my heart :)
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