We found her at a Wendy’s drive thru one night. We were at the pickup window and saw her sitting on the curb, super casual. She looked like she was waiting for a bus. The Wendy’s was on a very busy road, so we caught her. It took about 20 minutes and a Jr Bacon Cheeseburger.
The problem was we already had 3 adult cats in a one bedroom apartment that technically didn’t allow cats. The manager who lived on site was cool with it, but not the property owner. When the owner came by for inspections every 3 months, we’d have to crate them and hide them on the patio of a neighbor who had already been inspected. The manager always gave us a heads up.
So, the plan was to “find her a good home.” Like that was gonna actually happen, lol! Part of not getting attached was not giving her a name. She was quarantined in the utility room while we treated the ear mites and fleas. After she was clear, we gave her free range of the apartment. She was a holy terror! She stalked our other cats relentlessly and decided our most ornery and curmudgeonly cat, Frannie, would be her mentor. She even terrorized the dog, an 80 lb pittie.
We were still trying to stick by our “find her a good home” delusion, so no name. We kept laughing at her antics and the terror she rained down upon everyone except Frannie, and saying, “Oh you little shit!” Because she was definitely a little shit, lol! Then, we were afraid she would think Little Shit was her name.
Basically, Pooper is a cuter version of Little Shit. And it fits her, somehow. She’s a my little Poopina, my little Poo Na Na. She’s mellowed out considerably over the past 10 years. She’s now a super cuddly lovebug.
Here she is, claiming Bob’s bed and shamelessly taunting her about it (Bob was a girl). Notice Bob, a formerly stray, once hardcore survivalist cat, won’t make eye contact. None of the other cats would even dare think of sitting in Bob’s special area.
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