9 Lives X 4 Cats is Oh Help Us

This blog is specifically about Libby and technically about the two dogs. I say technically about the two dogs not because I think they are not dogs. I am pretty certain Libby is and I will grant you that Meeko looks like a dog. No, I mean technically about the dogs because I do not want to talk about the dogs this time.

I want to talk about the cats. I want to but I am afraid they might find out. You see cats were once worshiped as gods in ancient Egypt. Do not think for a moment that cats have forgotten or that they take kindly to their loss of status.  We have four cats or, possibly, four cats have us; it’s nip and tuck day to day.

The first cat we had was named Captain. It was given to Katherine by a friend of Connie’s to replace a lost pet. The second cat we have Connie and I named Bookworm for her affinity for sitting, sleeping, lounging, creeping and licking herself on my books. She was given to us by an unknown Tom cat that got to Captain before we could get her to the vet. The third cat came with the house. When we moved in Marshmallow was there looking up as if to say, “’bout time Butt Wipe, now where’s the food?” The final cat was a little gift given to us through Bookworm by way of another itinerant mouser. Katherine named this one Adora. I call it Arrhythmia the whys of that will be explained later.

The cat Baby Boom is now over. Once things settled we got everyone “fixed”: a euphemism I never understood. Biologically the problem is that they worked just fine. We got them “busted”.

Captain, the first cat, was fine with me. Every once in a while she rubbed my leg, equally as rarely I scratched her chin, her habit of chewing head hair did not bother me (see picture of author’s head) and she never went potty on my personals. Also she had a tendency to take long walks, a month was not uncommon, who can ask more of a cat.

Bookworm seems to like me. We have the same taste in reading. However, as she has gotten older she has been afflicted by a chronic case of the heebie jeebies. Ever seen those cartoons where a cat flies in all different directions at once and looks like somebody attached jumper cables to it? Who knew that was true. Also she finds my taste in music boring.

Marshmallow is….. well… Marshmallow’s breed is…. I think his father was a basset hound and his mother escaped from Area 51. But I am not really certain. One day he is Einstein the next day he can’t figure out how his feet work. One day he is a tiger on the hunt the next day he runs away from a flying leaf. Everyone has baggage, Marshmallow has trunks.

That leaves Arrhythmia, oh I meant Adora. I will say all I have to say about Adora with a question, do they make Kitty Lithium? I would say she is as crazy as a stripped ape but stripped apes would picket me.

So that is our little family of cats and Katherine LOVES everyone one of them. Connie is an avowed animal lover and will see no harm come to any animal except, possibly, this author. So I am stuck with them.

The converse of that problem is (mu ha ha ha) they are stuck with me too.