Spartacat

So, surprisingly, the girl who likes to post weird pictures she draws on the Internet ALSO really likes cats. A little too sane to be a "cat-lady," but pretty damn close. In fact, if you had asked me when I was 4 what I wanted to be when I grew up, I probably would have told you I wanted to BE a cat. Reality set in, and owning a cat became one of my greatest goals.

Around college, I came up with a great name for my future cat... Spartacus. A great name, true, worthy of a heroic cat-defender...

Though I realize that cats have a tendency not to care what you name them/what you want, nor do I think one would be particularly fond of being dressed up like so, so I knew Spartacus was more likely to be like this

But that was fine by me.

In my mid 20's and with a steady job, I finally decided to purchase my future Spartacus.

He was not quite the cat I envisioned. In the shelter, he was as sweet as pie, and clearly took a shine to me. When he got home, however, he turned into a different cat altogether. Now, I assume the abrupt change in environment had something to do with it, so I left him alone to adjust. But a week or so in to it, our interactions would go something like:

I approach...

I offer various delicious options

I assume he might be placated by my offer and allow me to pet him...but...

After talking to the shelter, seeing if there was anything I could do to make him more comfortable, they said I should try to break through his hissing reaction and pet him anyway (covered by a blanket or something), in order to show him I meant no harm.

Now our interactions go something like this

As soon as I take my hand away, however, we're back to square one. It remains to be seen whether this method of force petting will prove effective. In the mean time, I should just be glad I've obtained a cat as quirky as myself....