So if you dont already completely pity Chris for putting up with my deranged ass, here's some more ammunition. The next time you see him, be sure to thank him for keeping me away from the general population because I'm a menace.
If you havent heard the story of how we came by the two felines that graciously allow us to live here, I'll give you the short version. Enter me, pregnant and a complete sucker for strays. Enter them, 2 of 4 in a litter from a stray cat. They land on my porch, make cute baby kitty googly faces at me, and BAM! the next thing I know, they've moved their furry asses in.
Allow me to introduce Monty to you. He's the male and was the biggest of the litter. It was him that eventually talked Mouse into his scheme of moving in with us. He was the first one to be friendly with me and showed his affection by jumping into my lap and cuddling against my pregnant belly. At that moment, I was a goner. He'd found my kryptonite. Luckily, his antics have more than made up for his cat food consumption.
The first incident involved an empty tissue box. Well, let me back up. He had an obsession with my tiny World of Warcraft authenticator. He would wait until I was sleeping before pouncing, making sure that it was hidden in the most obscure regions of the house. I was not amused at having to crawl around on my hands and knees looking for this damn thing, especially when my belly started getting really big. So I thought I was going to be slick. I hid the authenticator in an empty tissue box on the coffee table next to me. One evening, Monty decided to go for it. And by "going for it", I mean he got his head stuck in the empty tissue box. So there he was, on the coffee table with the box firmly affixed to his head. He was slowly shaking his head side to side, as if that was going to get the box off. Then he started walking backwards and quickly ran out of coffee table. He fell off the table and then really didnt know what to do, because the box was still on his head. I got up and removed it and set the box back on the table after checking to make sure he was okay (and laughing my ass off). Not 5 minutes later he was back on the table but this time with his paw in the box. I'm not sure if that says he learned from the experience or not.
The second most hilarious moment was when he decided to jump from the top of the dryer onto the wall. Let me repeat that. Chris and I watched as he jumped and landed on the wall, had his paws wrapped around the side of the utility room wall and then sort of slid down it, ala Looney Tunes. Chris swears he had this look on his face that said, "I really should have thought this out better." There was no shelf that he was aiming for, or anything like that. There was nothing for him to land on...except the wall. Make of that what you will.
This is a Mouse. She is Monty's sister and the runt of the litter. She was much more wary of me initially but soon followed Monty's lead. Before long the two of them were taking up what was left of my lap. She's still much smaller than he is by at least 5 lbs (Monty weighed in at 12lbs at his last vest visit). She's very sneaky and has managed to squeeze herself into spaces that boggle the mind. Being female, she's also the talker. Monty usually just glares at me to get what he wants. Mouse on the other hand, will bitch until she gets her way. Sound familiar? Yeah, shut up.
She likes people food, too, making it dangerous to leave food items unattended. If you're not careful she'll shanghai whatever delicious treat you have made for yourself and then want affection when she's done eating it. She's also a bit of a whore. Monty is my cat. Mine. He doesnt like anyone else but me. Mouse on the other hand, will cozy up to anyone she thinks is an easy target, which is just about everyone. At bed time, she'll cuddle up to me. Monty does too, but he has the courtesy to be polite about it. Mouse will crawl across my chest and then inevitably, lay down with her ass in my face. And let me tell you, I honestly dont know what it is she eats but she is the stinkiest cat. Her favorite thing to do is to be all cute and sweet, then curl up in your lap and lay down the napalm. I never, ever had a cat that farted before. This one, sweet Jesus, it's just not natural. She does a lot of stupid stuff too, but nothing as epic as Monty.
So those are our two furballs and that is how we became their pets.
Tonight, while outside on the porch, a cat that I'd seen around the neighborhood nosed up onto my porch. She (I think, we didnt get to know each other that well) started meowing and I took one look at her poor little bag of bones self and brought out some cat food. The shame is, she's a gorgeous cat. Big blue eyes, pretty light gray color with black tipped ears. And real friendly too. At least, when I brought out the food she was.
It pisses me off so bad that people are such irresponsible jackasses. I mean, Jesus, just spay/neuter your fucking pets, okay? Do it because it's the right thing to do. Do it because Bob Barker told you too. I dont care what your excuses are, just fucking do it already because if I see one more poor little fucking beastie starving to death, I might just let it move in and then you'll all be in a fuck load of trouble because Chris will lose his shit. Yeah, that's right, I'm not even threatening you with my kind of crazy. It's Chris that you'll have to worry about.
There's my PSA for the year. Dont be a douchebag. Spay/Neuter your goddamn animals.
If you havent heard the story of how we came by the two felines that graciously allow us to live here, I'll give you the short version. Enter me, pregnant and a complete sucker for strays. Enter them, 2 of 4 in a litter from a stray cat. They land on my porch, make cute baby kitty googly faces at me, and BAM! the next thing I know, they've moved their furry asses in.
Allow me to introduce Monty to you. He's the male and was the biggest of the litter. It was him that eventually talked Mouse into his scheme of moving in with us. He was the first one to be friendly with me and showed his affection by jumping into my lap and cuddling against my pregnant belly. At that moment, I was a goner. He'd found my kryptonite. Luckily, his antics have more than made up for his cat food consumption. The first incident involved an empty tissue box. Well, let me back up. He had an obsession with my tiny World of Warcraft authenticator. He would wait until I was sleeping before pouncing, making sure that it was hidden in the most obscure regions of the house. I was not amused at having to crawl around on my hands and knees looking for this damn thing, especially when my belly started getting really big. So I thought I was going to be slick. I hid the authenticator in an empty tissue box on the coffee table next to me. One evening, Monty decided to go for it. And by "going for it", I mean he got his head stuck in the empty tissue box. So there he was, on the coffee table with the box firmly affixed to his head. He was slowly shaking his head side to side, as if that was going to get the box off. Then he started walking backwards and quickly ran out of coffee table. He fell off the table and then really didnt know what to do, because the box was still on his head. I got up and removed it and set the box back on the table after checking to make sure he was okay (and laughing my ass off). Not 5 minutes later he was back on the table but this time with his paw in the box. I'm not sure if that says he learned from the experience or not.
The second most hilarious moment was when he decided to jump from the top of the dryer onto the wall. Let me repeat that. Chris and I watched as he jumped and landed on the wall, had his paws wrapped around the side of the utility room wall and then sort of slid down it, ala Looney Tunes. Chris swears he had this look on his face that said, "I really should have thought this out better." There was no shelf that he was aiming for, or anything like that. There was nothing for him to land on...except the wall. Make of that what you will.
This is a Mouse. She is Monty's sister and the runt of the litter. She was much more wary of me initially but soon followed Monty's lead. Before long the two of them were taking up what was left of my lap. She's still much smaller than he is by at least 5 lbs (Monty weighed in at 12lbs at his last vest visit). She's very sneaky and has managed to squeeze herself into spaces that boggle the mind. Being female, she's also the talker. Monty usually just glares at me to get what he wants. Mouse on the other hand, will bitch until she gets her way. Sound familiar? Yeah, shut up.
She likes people food, too, making it dangerous to leave food items unattended. If you're not careful she'll shanghai whatever delicious treat you have made for yourself and then want affection when she's done eating it. She's also a bit of a whore. Monty is my cat. Mine. He doesnt like anyone else but me. Mouse on the other hand, will cozy up to anyone she thinks is an easy target, which is just about everyone. At bed time, she'll cuddle up to me. Monty does too, but he has the courtesy to be polite about it. Mouse will crawl across my chest and then inevitably, lay down with her ass in my face. And let me tell you, I honestly dont know what it is she eats but she is the stinkiest cat. Her favorite thing to do is to be all cute and sweet, then curl up in your lap and lay down the napalm. I never, ever had a cat that farted before. This one, sweet Jesus, it's just not natural. She does a lot of stupid stuff too, but nothing as epic as Monty.
So those are our two furballs and that is how we became their pets.
Tonight, while outside on the porch, a cat that I'd seen around the neighborhood nosed up onto my porch. She (I think, we didnt get to know each other that well) started meowing and I took one look at her poor little bag of bones self and brought out some cat food. The shame is, she's a gorgeous cat. Big blue eyes, pretty light gray color with black tipped ears. And real friendly too. At least, when I brought out the food she was.
It pisses me off so bad that people are such irresponsible jackasses. I mean, Jesus, just spay/neuter your fucking pets, okay? Do it because it's the right thing to do. Do it because Bob Barker told you too. I dont care what your excuses are, just fucking do it already because if I see one more poor little fucking beastie starving to death, I might just let it move in and then you'll all be in a fuck load of trouble because Chris will lose his shit. Yeah, that's right, I'm not even threatening you with my kind of crazy. It's Chris that you'll have to worry about.
There's my PSA for the year. Dont be a douchebag. Spay/Neuter your goddamn animals.
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