Jenny Pierson & Churro
Churro is sweet and a little spicy—and unlike any cat I’ve ever met before. She’s a gray tabby with a big fuzzy belly (yes, she’s on a diet; no, you can’t pet her belly).
In 2016, I told my then-boyfriend (now husband) Max that before we got engaged, I had to make sure he was a cat person. Off we went to the ASPCA mobile adoption van in Union Square. One slow blink from Churro, and we knew she was the cat coming home with us.
Even though she had a hard life before her adoption, Churro is the most affectionate and hilarious cat. Frankly, there are some things she does that still bewilder me.
Churro eats by scooping up food with her paw. Initially, I was worried that it was because her whiskers were sensitive when they hit the sides of the bowl, but I’ve tried bowls in every shape, size, and material—it doesn’t make a difference. She prefers to make a mess by finger-painting her food area. And it doesn’t hurt that she gets to save a little dried food on her paw for later.
“One time she hopped up into my arms, nuzzled me, purred, and then without warning bit my lip so hard that I have a permanent scar. But I forgive and still love her.”
The strangest thing she does is that she asks to be picked up at least twice a day. She jumps onto the kitchen table, meows urgently, and waits for me to pick her up. Once I do, she’ll put a paw around each side of my neck and proceed to purr for a few minutes while I hold her. I’m never quite sure if she’s going for a hug or easy access to my jugular. It’s thrilling.
Her decision that cuddle time is over usually comes out of nowhere. If you don’t set up her dismount just right, she might bite you. One time she hopped up into my arms, nuzzled me, purred, and then without warning bit my lip so hard that I have a permanent scar. But I forgive and still love her.
When I pull out a yoga mat to work out, she sits on it immediately, ready to attack my hands and feet. I cut up an old mat so she could have her own little one next to me, but she ignores that and still sits on mine. I switched from mat workouts to roller skating, but I think it’s only a matter of time before she starts unscrewing the wheels—she has done this to milk carton caps.
She loves to sit by the window when it’s open just a crack so she can get a whiff of “outside air.” She’ll sit on the windowsill and watch a neighbor’s cat on its window perch in an adjacent-facing apartment, or she’ll watch the birds (although she prefers YouTube videos of squirrels). But judging by how disinterested she is in the apartment door and the experience of leaving the house for her annual vet checkup, I don’t think she misses outside life and is happy to be a house cat.
Sometimes she chirps loudly before flopping down in the middle of the floor, and it’s so dramatic. I like to toss her favorite toys (fish and gnome) onto her ample belly for her to bunny-kick. It’s so cute until you learn that’s how cats in the wild behead their prey.
She comes when I call her about half the time, which is immensely gratifying. She also lives for a beanbag nap. (Honestly, who among us doesn’t?)
I’ve always been a cat lover. When I was a kid and people asked what I wanted to be when I grow up, I said I wanted to be a cat. I was crushed when I realized that wasn’t possible. But it warms my heart to see Churro living out my childhood dream with pizzazz every day.
Since Churro was around one year old when we got her, and her previous history was largely unknown, I’ve always wondered what her life as a stray kitten was like. I imagine it was hard, because the twice-a-day hugs she gives say that she appreciates having been rescued.
Watching Churro thrive got me more interested in cat rescue. I used to volunteer at a cat shelter called Ollie’s Place when I was an undergrad at NYU, and I have received TNR certification from Neighborhood Cats.
I’ve recently met some talented people with innovative solutions to end the unnecessary suffering caused by cat overpopulation. Based on my discussions with them (and, of course, thanks in part to Churro), I’m developing a new project called the Cat Museum of New York City that will support and spread awareness about local cat rescue efforts. It will connect the community of people who care for cats through art and educational and social events. I’m excited to engage New Yorkers about how wonderful it can be to care for cats like Churro—and to make more cats like her feel safe, secure, and loved.
Jenny Pierson is an editor at an independent journalism nonprofit organization, a freelance book publishing consultant, and the founder of Fixing Fit. She lives in Hell’s Kitchen, New York. She is the founding executive director of the Cat Museum of New York City, coming soon to the East Village.