January 30, 2010
If you have a lot of pets, people give you pets. People gave us the two rabbits and some of the cats. In our next house, I want to have just one cat, maybe two. We have too many. It’s ridiculous.
Cats we have at our house:
Meghan: Black and white, fifteen years old very thin and lives outside. She has the strangest meow that sounds like nails on chalkboard or your grandmother asking you why you smoke so much weed.
Smoky: He’s the one we got from the woman who killed herself. Huge Russian Blue. Last night he was trying to eat my dinner. I slapped his paw. He slapped my hand and bit me. Often he’ll sit on high furniture and bop you on the head as you walk by and then when you turn around he’s washing and pretending not to see you.
Charlie Meshugana Lipshitz: Siamese. Big cat. He talks constantly. He’s a doctor, according to the kids, and so he thinks he’s smart and likes to talk about what he knows. He is constantly talking to everyone about everything. He will not shut up.
Sid: Small Russian Blue. Stays in the highest place in the house from whence Mark chases him down with a yardstick. He’s learning to hide. He likes to hide on top of the kitchen cabinets and sleep and then come down and play with his brother Rodent. Mark has forbidden him being on top of the cabinet, but as I write this, he is up there, lying low and we are at the kitchen table and Mark doesn’t see him.
Rodent: Gray and white. Half Russian Blue, has a huge head, likes to play with Sid, sleep and eat. He’s talented in both departments—sleeping..eating…
Ganja: formerly named Doobie, but then that was decided to be too obvious a name, so my son came up with a really subtle name like Ganja. Small cute female cat that was driving all the males wild until she got fixed two weeks ago. Sort of dark brown and black. Used to sneak into the Red Hen office all the time.
Joey: Lives outside. Grey and white. Got hit by a car, so he kind of takes it easy and lives on top of the rabbit pen and we feed him there so he doesn’t have to move around much. But he scares off raccoons.
Mini Andie: Former cat that neighbors adopted but sometimes still comes to us for food, half Siamese, one leg doesn’t work.
Corky: Stays inside most of the time. In fact she is sleeping on my boots right now. Corky’s whole backside doesn’t work so she has to drag herself along by her front legs. It’s kind of sad, but she can get onto furniture and all around the house with those front legs. She’s a paraplegic. Some people thought we should have had her put to sleep as a kitten, but we say Corky’s living a quasi-happy life and hey that’s the best most of us can hope for. That’s kind of a Lori Moore thing.. quasi happy. That’s Corky’s life.
Well, there’s no quasi about the pet situation. I don’t think we can say we quasi have too many pets. We really may have too many cats/pets. I have to think about this. But I’m pretty sure. Still thinking. Comments anyone?
I’m going off for a ten mile run.