When you have pets of any kind there comes a point where, when people ask you how many you have, and you reply " four" or " seven" or however many is true, that they look astonished and want to know " Why so many?" You see, it started like this. My family and I actively sought out and rescued 2 pets. 1 cat ( Jenny) and 1 dog ( Snoopy). This made us happy. Then we moved. Our old house was apparently a desirable place for a feral cat to have her kittens. It was not however desirable to sell a house inhabited by feral cats so we banished them , in the process rescuing Abby. She was tiny and we bottle fed her and we kept her, figuring two kids, two cats. Makes sense right? She does love to sit in her daddy's lap 
Meet Forrest. Forrest wandered up one day last year and talked his daddy into patting him on the head, then feeding him, then letting him move in. He moved out again pretty quickly. Naughty house manners, nuff said? But he stayed around and became the "outside kitty". For those of you keeping track this makes a total of 4 critters. 2 inside kitties, 1 outside, and one very spoiled inside dog. Still a reasonable number right? One pet for every member of the family - nothing exotic or outrageous.
Now it gets a little ugly. It seems that Forrest has a wife and kids. We just met them Sunday. Mama ( you know that Forrest loved his mama) is a pretty little gray tabby - very bashful - no pictures available yet. Little Bubba is solid black like his daddy and little Lou ( for lieutenant Dan) is gray and white like his mama. They are also quick as little bunnies and we can't catch them. So now it starts to sound a little nuts. I admit that I have said when I am old that I will be the crazy cat lady on the street. I have also said that I will sit in my rocker and knit and give little kids snow cones. I really never meant for this to happen. I'm not old yet! Oh God, I have 6 cats, and a dog. I need a drink.
When you have pets of any kind there comes a point where, when people ask you how many you have, and you reply " four" or " seven" or however many is true, that they look astonished and want to know " Why so many?" You see, it started like this. My family and I actively sought out and rescued 2 pets. 1 cat ( Jenny) and 1 dog ( Snoopy). This made us happy. Then we moved. Our old house was apparently a desirable place for a feral cat to have her kittens. It was not however desirable to sell a house inhabited by feral cats so we banished them , in the process rescuing Abby. She was tiny and we bottle fed her and we kept her, figuring two kids, two cats. Makes sense right? She does love to sit in her daddy's lap
Meet Forrest. Forrest wandered up one day last year and talked his daddy into patting him on the head, then feeding him, then letting him move in. He moved out again pretty quickly. Naughty house manners, nuff said? But he stayed around and became the "outside kitty". For those of you keeping track this makes a total of 4 critters. 2 inside kitties, 1 outside, and one very spoiled inside dog. Still a reasonable number right? One pet for every member of the family - nothing exotic or outrageous.
Now it gets a little ugly. It seems that Forrest has a wife and kids. We just met them Sunday. Mama ( you know that Forrest loved his mama) is a pretty little gray tabby - very bashful - no pictures available yet. Little Bubba is solid black like his daddy and little Lou ( for lieutenant Dan) is gray and white like his mama. They are also quick as little bunnies and we can't catch them. So now it starts to sound a little nuts. I admit that I have said when I am old that I will be the crazy cat lady on the street. I have also said that I will sit in my rocker and knit and give little kids snow cones. I really never meant for this to happen. I'm not old yet! Oh God, I have 6 cats, and a dog. I need a drink.
1 comment:
Damn, Ramone. You've gone and even outdone me and our "brady cats". And you have grandkittens!!!! Perhaps we are getting older more quickly than we think.
Oh. My little "boyfriend" at Mo's who knows exactly how to fix my Joey bag-of-donuts exactly how I like it without me saying anything? Guess what his name is? Its Jose. When I found out that his name was Jose, I had to stop myself from blurting out, "That's my name too!" I figured it would require far too much explanation and might even involve me speaking Spanglish with a British accent and that could be just downright ugly.
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