Hello My Bitches

I thought I'd stick my head in the door to show you I still have all my hair and let you know how things are going.

First of all, Stinky tells me I have a lot of loyal readers in the land of big bad TX. (The grand state where people will kick your ass for making fun of the freaky road systems and they are infinately proud that Texas could break up into 5 smaller states at any given time - why I don't friggin know, but I know that you are proud because every time I meet someone from Texas, they make sure they tell me all about it). May I eloquently say "What's up?" with a nod of my head and thank you for subjecting yourselves to this particular torture.

Secondly, I would like to say a heart felt appreciation to everyone who left a comment on my blog about the "Cat Punting Incident" as I have come to call it. Everytime I logged on to take a look-see around and check my comments...saw there was more comments....I sweetly told him he had more hate mail. I would like to thank you for you words - seriously - he has sworn to me that he will never lay his hands on my animals again - and Charles doesn't break his word. Your words with mine seem to have brought him around and both cats have come home and gotten cleared by the Vet. It took several days before Night-Night would be coaxed and cajoled back into the house, but I finally got him and he hasn't left yet. That's just fine by me. He's very soft and makes an excellent head warmer while I'm sleeping LOL.

Thirdly, Carmachu wanted to know the history on my cats....

All three of my cats are rescues. Back in Feb 2002, I went to pick up Lauren at daycare and a very small cat (not kitten) tried to slip into the building behind me to get out of the cold. I said something to one of the teachers about the little kitty outside and she replied that the cat now lived in the bushes outside the facility and had been there for several days...to her knowledge, she had not eaten. Lauren looked at me with her sweet little girl face and asked if we could keep her (she's an animal lover like her mother). I went home, got a card board cat carrier and went and got her. We named her Jezebel, started calling her Jazz, and she's been one of the best cats I've ever had. I think someone had her and turned her out because I never had to teach her to use the litter box, the scratching post and she has never ever jumped up on the counter or the table. She is full of manners and is almost prissy....she's also very skittish but I've never had a more gentle and sweet natured cat. She pats me very gently on my face with her paw when she wants me to pet her, and she has only scratched me once the entire time I have had her, and that was on accident when we were playing with her feathers. She was starving when we took her in. I could clearly see her ribs and the vet recommended I turn her into the shelter because of her condition. I didn't, and she sleeps at my feet every night.

A few months after we moved into this house, around Thanksgiving (this is about 2 years after we got Jazz), I kept hearing a kitten meowing over at our property line with our neighbors (not the neighbors I've told you about before) and figured they had either gotten a cat or had taken one in (as we had a colony of feral cats here). For 3 days, I kept hearing this kitten and finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I went outside and called and he trotted right up to me. I thought that Jazz was skinny, but this cat was half dead. I can honestly say, I had not, up to that point, seen a cat in worse condition than he was at that moment. We named him Tom (after begging Charles to let us keep him) and he and Jazz eventually learned to get along well. He likes to curl up in the crook of my arm or my knees when I sleep.

That very next year, again in the winter, Charles and Lauren and I were in the living room and I happend to look outside through the sliding glass door. I was shocked to see a cat looking in. He was laying down with his feet tucked underneath him and was looking directly at me. I said "Charles! Look at that! Have you ever seen a cat do that - a cat that you don't know?" "There might be something wrong with him. That's not normal." I was inclined to think he was right. Tom is very territorial - even after being neutered - and does't allow cats around the house. But it was cold, we had just had a bit of snow with a thick layer of ice on top and he looked kind of thin - at least insofar as I could tell with dim porch lighting. "I think he's cold and hungry."

Lauren finally perked up and wanted to know what we were talking about. I pointed out the cat on the back porch and she of course wanted to keep him. We both told her immediately that it was out of the question since we already had enough pets and couldn't afford any more vet bills...but I kept looking at that cat. It was late, and animal control wouldn't be able to come out our way until they cleared the roads, and that was going to take a while since we live so far out in the country - days.

"I'm going to check him out honey. At least give him a box to sleep in or something and give him something to eat."

"God NO!" We can't afford what we have now! Don't feed him or he'll keep coming back."

"I know we can't keep him honey, but I just feel so bad for him. I'll give him a look and something to eat, you know he's cold. When Monday rolls around, I'll take him to the shelter myself." (we have no kill shelters here)

Charles finally agreed and I bundled up and opened the sliding glass door to go check him out. He ran in the house and made himself as at home as much as we would let him. He REFUSED to be coaxed into a cat carrier to be taken to the vet and animal control never came. He had pretty bad frost bite on his paws (and his over all condition was terrible - I think he would have been dead with in a few days or less if we hadn't fed him - his general condition was aweful, just so hearbreakingly terrible) and he needed to be looked at...but I have never had a cat get ugly with me like he did when he saw that cat carrier. I called the vet, he remembered me from Jazz, Tom and my dog Spud and knows my neighbors S and J (which is how I got his name - S is a big animal lover)and he stopped by...free of charge. (Yes, I almost had a stroke) The vet offered to take him then, but Charles had made the fatal mistake of becoming attached to him and let me see it.

Neither Tom nor Jazz are lap cats. Night-Night is, and that's what Charles likes.

It was so weird when the vet offered to take him, the cat just looked at me like he KNEW what was going on and was asking to stay. I looked at him and said half jokingly "Don't look at me! If you want to stay go talk to him" - pointing at Charles. He trotted up to Charles, jumped in his lap and preceeded to lay on the love. Lauren and I looked at each other and went "AAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW" and Charles told us to stop because we weren't keeping the cat - the whole time rubbing him and loving on him and I could see he was melting like hot butter.

We spent two days picking out his name. He's the one that sleeps on my pillow.