Are you absolutely and completely sick and tired of hearing anything at all about Taylor Swift? Would you rather eat a Carolina reaper than spend an evening at a party full of strangers and loud music? Is your idea of a perfect weekend one where you don’t have to say a single word to anyone? Are most of your best friends a different species than you? Then you and I might be kindred spirits. I’m Ivy and I’m unapologetically me. I’m bold and big-hearted. Opinionated and affectionate. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and that’s okay. I don’t need to please the masses. I just need to find someone who gets me. First of all, someone is going to have to be a human and not a cat. I haven’t met dogs, so I don’t know what I’d think of them, but I am 100% sure about my feelings on cats: it’s a big fat “No thank you” from me. Humans, though… humans can be cool. Some of them. Most of the time.

Two things: one, I don’t think it’s wrong to have standards. People won’t know how you want to be treated unless you tell them. So yes, I will let you know if I’ve had enough petting or don’t want to be touched in a certain place. If you come up and greet me politely, then hold up your hand for me to sniff, I’ll respond with plenty of headbutts and love. If you grab me like that kid at the dentist in Finding Nemo… you’ll catch these paws.

Number two is that I’ve been here almost a year. As I mentioned, my feelings toward other cats can best be described as “loathing, unadulterated loathing,” and I am literally surrounded by them at all times. It’s like the worst social situation ever and I’ve been in the midst of it for literally over 6,500 hours STRAIGHT. Of course, my patience is a little thin. Wouldn’t yours be? So don’t judge me too harshly by how I am right now, in the opposite of my ideal situation. Sincerely, though… I’m pretty unhappy here. I want to make friends and you can tell I’m an affectionate cat at heart, but I don’t show well. And, of course, if you don’t show well, you don’t get picked and you don’t get out of here. That’s why I need to find the right person. MY person. Someone who knows what it’s like to not be a part of the “in” crowd, but also knows that there’s nothing like the bond between two weirdos.  So if you want a fat, sometimes-crabby, completely-awesome cat to call your own, come and get me. We can refuse to leave the house all weekend together.

My name is Ivy, I’m two years old, and I’m spayed, up to date on shots, and fully vetted.