Strangely enough, Don and I always considered ourselves dog people. We both always have had dogs as pets. And we raised our children more years with a dog in the house than with a cat. Although, the children did bring home cats who lived at our house from time to time as they grew up. I think Smokey lived with us the longest until he chose to move to my mother's house where things were quiet and peaceful for an old cat.
The pet we had for the longest time was Scot, THE BEST DOG IN THE WORLD EVER, who lived with us for 16 or 17 years. He was a shepherd mix who was an abandoned puppy that followed Don all around the Highland Scot football field as Don mowed one day. Then he came home to live with us for the rest of his life. He was sweet, smart, well behaved and fun. All in all an excellent family member.
The summer after Scot died we brought two cats, Frankie and Johnny, home from the lake. I've told the story before how they were born on our porch and marched straight into our hearts and lives. They were totally misnamed. When Frank was a new baby I looked into his baby blue eyes and started calling him "Old Blue Eyes."
Of course, that was Frank Sinatra's nick name, so we started calling the kitten Frankie. When we were looking for a name for his sister, we thought of the song,
"Frankie and Johnny." Later on, as Frank grew, his eyes turned green. I guess all baby cats have blue eyes. And in the song, Frankie is the girl and Johnny is the boy. So they were totally misnamed. Johnny died a few years ago of diabetes, so we now just live with Frankie.
Frankie is skinny, his fur is rough, he has brown spots on his nose, so I may be the only person who thinks he is beautiful. Don loves him because he is so low maintenance: he doesn't eat much, he doesn't drink much, he doesn't use the litter box much, he sleeps a lot, and has never been sick. See, you would think he is beautiful, too, if he lived at your house. He likes to sit on my lap and be loved.
The peculiar thing is that all our children upon leaving home and marrying, have become definite cat people. They not only have one cat, but have multiples.
Elaine, Randy, and girls have had several cats, and I really can't remember all their names. Where they live, the yard and outdoors is a kitty wonderland of huge trees, a overgrown ravine, and many little wild critters to chase. So this Smith family has always allowed their cats to go outside as they please. But they have not had very good cat luck. Their cats have left them through accidents, fights, and sicknesses. I think that right now they just have one cat name Algernon, or Algie. as they call him. He is a lively, smart, and always curious cat. His strangest behavior is to go out the second story window and climb to the high roof.
From there he surveys his kingdom, chases squirrels and things, and looks over the edge of the roof to taunt anyone trying to entice him inside.
Debra and Rod live in a rural area. The have three HUGE indoor Maine Coon cats: Windy, Sparky, and Rags. They are beautiful, long-haired cats who would like to rule the roost. Now, living in the country, Debra and Rod feed several outdoor cats that have been dumped in the road by nasty people. Of course, these poor creatures have a hard time surviving even though they get fed. So, from time to time, Debra and Rod have taken these strays to the vet, and have brought them inside to convalesce. Hoopsy, a coal black female came inside when she had suffered in a fight, and was also pregnant. Guess what? She still lives inside. Her kittens, Peanut Butter and Jelly, also lived there until they were adopted by friends. Now
Hoops lives in the lap of luxury where she eats her food and everybody else's that she can steal! Having starved for so long as a stray, she simply cannot get enough to eat. So she has turned into one very fat menopausal middle aged lady. I can identify. On the other hand, Rags spends his life harrassing her.
Rod and Debra also doctored a sweet grey and white cat they call Little bit, I think.
Little Bit was in the house while recovering from injuries, but has been forced now to live on the front porch. There really is a limit to litter box capacity. However, Little Bit, spends all the time peering in the window looking pitiful and wanting back inside. Just be patient, Little Bit. When it gets cold enough, Debra and Rod will weaken.
Then there is the Holloman family. Our daughter has the softest heart of all. She adopted their dog, Hunter, because the neighbors didn't want him and mistreated him.
They adopted their cat, Ditto, because it showed up at Rod and Debra's while Taylor was working there in the studio. Taylor begged and begged until he was allowed to bring her home. She is a very beautiful coal black cat with bright green eyes. Taylor named her Ditto because she looked like Hoopsie who lives in Rod's studio.
Rather than call her Hoopsie II, they call her Ditto. She is the princess of the household, who loves to strike a pretty pose and be admired. Truly, she knows how beautiful she is, and fully expects to be admired. But, like any beautiful woman, she has a wicked side. Cheryl calls her a Ninja cat. She will chase anything that she spies outdoors, does some wild gymnastic moves, and will fetch anything as many times as someone will throw it.
Then during August a male Tom cat showed up at Cheryl and Jon's. Well, he actually showed up next door where the six Martin kids live. The Martin kids loved this orange, good-looking cat, and played with it, loved on it, and begged Mom and Dad to adopt it. But, Brian and Heidi are extemely wise and determined. They not only did not adopt the cat, but absolutely refused to feed and water it. They KNOW what that gets you.
After watching the poor cat beg for anything for a week, Cheryl couldn't stand it any longer. YOU KNOW WHAT SHE DID, DON'T YOU. Of course, she started leaving food and water on her deck. Then she started sitting on the deck in the evening holding the sweet cat in her lap, and driving Hunter the dog, and Ditto the cat crazy. Then she started calling sweet cat, Mellow Yellow, because he was so laid back and calm.
Jon asked her how she knew that Mellow Yellow was a male Tom cat. Cheryl said because he had a ball sack. From then on, Jon called the sweet cat, Ballsack.
Yes, he did.
Aunt Jane, another soft touch where cats are concerned, said she would pay for Ball sack to be neutered. Cheryl said, "How can I take him to the vet where they will ask what his name is, and I have to say, Ballsack?"
I said, "Well, at least give it the foreign spelling, Balzac, like the famous author."
Aunt Jane said, "I am going to call him Zac."
Cheryl said, "I am going to call him Ballsie." (And that is any better?}
Don said, "What was wrong with Mellow Yellow?"
Taylor said, "I feel used. All he wants from us is that food dish."
Well, today the above mentioned cat went to the veterinarian for his little surgery.
Cheryl told them his name is Zack. They removed that part of his body for which he has been named.
So I guess we can now call him Zackless.
No comments:
Post a Comment