Arthur is a king among cats, a gray lion, a loveable scamp, a cheeky character … he is at once the best cat and the worst cat. Friends I have not seen in years always ask after him. Arthur makes an impression.
Pauly was an Italian stereotype of a cat. He was a fat grey furry beast who loved to eat and yell. He always had greased-back hair. He would put his head under the running water tap and create a pompadour between his fuzzy grey ears. His resulting “do” always sticking up and was consistently wet to the touch. He was frankly vain about it. That cat knew more about life than I did, you could just tell. He loved to eat and yell. He lived to a respectable age and died suddenly. He broke our hearts. Continue reading
I have a love-hate relationship with my cats; Skeletor and Casey Jones. I love falling asleep cuddling with a kitty, but I hate waking up before the sunrise to kitten paws punching me in the face. I love always having 2 adorable bundles of purring fur to watch tv with me, but I hate that no matter how often I sweep, there’s always litter all over my apartment floor.
Some days, I wish I were to suddenly develop cat allergies so that I would, sadly, be forced to send them to live elsewhere. Some days, I wish I had more cats so that I could bury myself under a mountain of cats and live happily ever after.
If a sudden windfall of cash were to fall in my lap, I would not buy myself a vintage pink cadillac or take a trip to Thailand. Nope. I would rent the apartment directly across the hall from mine so that my cats can have a place of their very own. Their very own catpartment. Continue reading
It seems that there is an agreement that has been made between me and my cat. I don’t remember any registered letters or meetings with notaries. But there are specific actions that I am expected to undertake immediately upon notification from said cat. Continue reading