Around 1986, Mom and I inherited this beautiful kitty from my cousin. My Aunt D and Uncle B’s research led them to an Abyssinian breeder, since this variety of cat was supposedly the most like dogs you could possibly find in a cat… y’know; because most cats couldn’t give a flying fuck:
And, because they wouldn’t bring a dog to live in their (nicely appointed) little Queens apartment.
Despite Abyssinian Reds being known for their hypoallergenic qualities, Cousin A displayed telltale symptoms of cat sensitivity. So Cinnamon (formerly “Lucky”. Really, cousin A!?) came to live with mom and I while we were refugees in her friend’s apartment. *Long story for another day but blame that one on my stepfather being slightly psychotic in the 80’s; when PTSD was just a twinkle in VA psychiatrists’ prescription pads.
So besides the adorable, tiny, talented kitty in this photo – who figured out entirely on her own that it would be cool to jump up & sit on my shoulder; who meowed whenever you whipped out a camera, and who slept on my mother’s head like a hat – you will notice a few things:
- My girly mullet
- My ridiculously fringed, lacy sweatshirt
- Really, REALLY horrible wallpaper
- I almost forgot! – The “Playboy” playing-card, nameplate necklace!
3 4 things don’t make you immediately miss the 80’s (or the 70’s; I blame the 70’s for that wallpaper!) then you are probably more right in the head than I am.
Any and ALL comments encouraged! Have at it! 😉