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Wacky Kitty 3, welcome home, buddy-boy

November 7th, 2007

Wanna see pix of our newest family member? He’s over there in Flickr, purring. Where did we get him? From our yard. He was out there in the rain, skinny, hungry, covered in fleas.
Miserable Life Here, Eh?
Meowing all the time and wanting some pets on the head.

Not neutered. Of course he wasn’t neutered, so there are all kinds of cats, younger than he is and looking just like him, oddly enough, throughout the neighborhood.

He was catting around.

The kids: “Mom, that little black and white cat is back!”

Hockey God: “What a surprise.”

After I dropped the kids off at school in the morning, he would be stretched out on the parking strip, hunting birds and mice. He’d meow hello at me. I fell for him. Put him in a cat carrier, took him in for shots, neutering, de-worming, de-fleaing. Then he was supposedly to go off to the Humane Society, where I would track him on the computer until he found a home, or go rescue him if he didn’t.

You can probably guess how that one went. No room at the inn, me on the phone, my husband saying, “Take him home, already,” excited kids, happy me, one blissed-out kitty cat, stretched out on a blanket on the best chair in the house, sleeping. And eating. And sleeping some more. He’s doing OK with the other cats, although being Young Stud he is a little too rowdy sometimes.

Then I get a call.

Female voice (sniffling and snorking): “I’m calling? About your little black and white cat?” (sobbing.)
me (worried he’s been hit): “Is he OK???”
Female on the other end of phone: “Yeah, he’s not hit or anything, he’s on the sidewalk here? I’m petting him. It’s just… Where did you get him?”
me: “From our yard. Wait.. he’s yours?”

Yeah, he was hers. “Was,” I just said. Because after she talked with my daughter, explained the deal, and I got back on the line, she decided we needed to keep the (un-neutered, flea-bitten) kitty-witty.

Female voice: “She’s real attached to him now, huh? I got him off Craig’s List for ten bucks. He’s sweet, isn’t he?”
Me: “Yeah, he’s adorable.”

He’s a little over a year old. Much back and forth, that went like this… are you sure? I don’t want to steal your cat, here. Not that I’ve ever done that before. Uh, maybe I did, but just that once. No, really — it’s okay, we got two other cats. Us, too! Yeah, it’s a small kitty-cat world, isn’t it? Are you sure it’s OK? Yeah, I got him for my mom, but she will be so glad to hear your daughter loves him so much. She really does love him. Thank you. No, thank you. Really — thanks.

So welcome home, for keeps, Wacky Cat 3. We love you.

4 Comments

  1. Vixen says

    You big ole softy/cat stealer, err I meant cat saver :)

    Enjoy the Wacky family, WC3.

    November 7th, 2007 | #

  2. Mallory says

    The cat-burglar strikes again! lol He sure is a sexy beast, so dapper in his tuxedo. You are one lucky cat, Wacky 3!

    November 7th, 2007 | #

  3. edj says

    Ok, how many times did you post today? What’s up with that? This whole nomobloposhowoff thing has gone to your head, that’s what! You are making the rest of us look bad. Plus we can’t keep up with your blog. PLUS how will you keep this up for the WHOLE ENTIRE month?
    Your tree is doing well in our living room. Thanks again.

    November 7th, 2007 | #

  4. WackyMommy says

    Edj,
    I think that was ten. Maybe 17. I’m happy for the tree! (We got rid of all of our houseplants, Internets!!!)

    November 7th, 2007 | #

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