|
Gus |
|
Trixie |
|
Gaston | |
Now that you mention it, it
IS Caturday!
I was feeling all sentimental and shit last night. I was thinking about Trixie and how Coco had gargantuan objections to her moving inside. (
Trixie now lives with a very nice, lucky woman in Portland, Maine). There was Gus. Jen and Oni still miss that
fuzzy little Eddie Haskell terribly (now in a lovely forever home elsewhere in town).
Gaston (AKA Loud Boy) and how much I miss him—I seem to be alone in this. G-boy just stopped showing up. I dearly hope one of his other feeder/cosseter/suckers took him inside.
Now, visiting but not living on our porch, we have Ghost Cat, Fritz and
Ignatz. None of our new kittens are keen on humans. They don’t yet know
that I’m their friend and doormat. I leave a bowl or two of food out at
breakfast and dinner and then make myself scarce so as not to scare
them. Jen’s gotten a better look see at Fritz and Ignatz. She tells me
that Fritz is a mondo Maine Coon Cat—just enormously furry. Ignatz is
big too but not as much of a wooly mammoth.
|
Sargeant Rocco |
|
Princess Coco |
Meanwhile
indoors: Rocco remains a big ol’ ferally sweetie boy—running into the depths of our closet the minute anyone comes inside (he's a schmooze monster with me though and
sometimes he'll allow TAB pat him). He sticks to the second floor for the most part and Coco
reigns supreme on the first. That is, unless they’re in passive
aggressive mode where they sneak food from each other’s bowls or take strafing run slashes in the opposing team's litter box.
Rocco overslept this
morning. This was concerning (he’s not a young thing anymore) until I
realized that he likely had a tuna hangover. He and Coco each had a big
plate of it last night for dinner. Conversely, our relatively youthful
princess was zooming all over the joint. She was bouncing off the walls
and zipping up and down the basement stairs.
Tuna. Quite the heavy drug.
Clearly.
Black and orange stray cat sittin' on a fence
Ain't got enough dough to pay the rent
I'm flat broke, but I don't care
I strut right by with my tail in the air
Stray cat strut, I'm a (Ladies' cat)
I'm a feline Casanova (Hey, man, that's where it's at)
Get a shoe thrown at me from a mean old man
Get my dinner from a garbage can
Meow
Yeah, don't cross my path
I don't bother chasing mice around, oh, no
I slink down the alley looking for a fight
Howling to the moonlight on a hot summer night
Singin' the blues while the lady cats cry
"Wild stray cat, you're a real gone guy
I wish I could be as carefree and wild
But I got cat class, and I got cat style"
Meow
Stray Cat Strut—Stray Cats
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