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Archive for the ‘Kitties’ Category

Wow, I’m bored at work on a roll today.  No posts for over a month, and now two in one day.  Go me, go.

I’m pretty sure I’ve only mentioned my cats once since I started this blog.  Strange for me, since they produce some pretty interesting side notes.  Currently, I have two cats, but let’s back track to the very beginning, shall we?

You have no choice, really.  I’m bored – you suffer.

My mom is not a fan of living things that are not human, so until my parents separated, I was a pet-less child (except for the random carnival goldfish that I could never keep alive).  

My dad was all about getting a pet.  We both wanted a dog, but we were never home enough – him with the golf, me with the other random sports – pick one, I did it.  So daddy took me to a farm out in the sticks to pick out a little kitty.  I picked a cute orange fuzz ball.  We hummed and hawed over what we were to call the little sucker.  The woman who gave us the cat told us it was a female.  My dad wanted to call her Ginger.  I wanted everything but.  I preferred Sunshine, Pumpkin, Fuzzhead, Orangey and so on.  The vote was in my dad’s favour – 2 votes, dad – 1 vote, me. Okie.  So Ginger it was.  Ginger was the best pet ever.  Ever, ever, ever.  He lived 13 years and I loved him like he was my brother. Notice I’m saying, ‘brother?’  Yep.  So at some point I went to Europe for a month and came back to my fuzzy little friend.

‘Ginger’s not a girl anymore,’ my dad chuckled.   

But since he already responded to his name, it stuck.  So Ginger, the sexually confused cat, lived on to be one of my favs.

At some point, while I still had Ginger, I got another little sucker and named her Scarlett.  She was white and orange and cute as a button.  But all of this did not make up for that fact that she was inbred (I found this out later from the owners of her parents) and completely retarded – I’m putting that lightly.  She ended up running into a car.  Poor thing.

Ginger passed when I was living in Barbados.  I felt terribly guilty that I wasn’t there by his side, rubbing his little orange face. 

Still in Barbados, I acquired another cat in Canada.  My now ex saved a bunch of kitties from some shack or whatnot and when I came back I had a year old, grey, white and peach cat named Marbles.  She is a fat  big-boned, whiney thing, but I still love her to death.  Eventually, Marbles got lonely and now she has a little bro named Echo.  Echo is the strangest cat I’ve ever had.  He is so affectionate, and frankly, he acts more like a dog than a cat.  He begs for food, he fetches and repeats over, and over, and over again for hours on end.  These two cats try to control my life. I wake up every single morning to Echo licking my face, and Marbles pushing whatever shit she can find off of my night stand.  The interesting part is that she will move things slightly, until I move around a bit and fall back asleep. Once she realizes that I’m not getting up, she continues pushing shit, until it falls off of whatever it’s on.  Once she actually chewed about 50 pages out of one of my books.  You’d think the fatty big-boned beauty was starving or something….but no, apparently she is quite particular about what time I give her grub.  

So after all of this background info, I can’t recall a single funny side note.  They really are an odd pair, I swear it.  You’ll just have to take my word for it. 

Meow.

 

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