Sasquatch and I reluctantly share our home with three stooges...I mean cats. I have nothing against cats. I like them in fact, one at a time. Three at a time is two too many. I say "reluctantly" because, much like Alaknanda Shivapunjabharikrishnavishnurama, with her arranged marriage to Mr Shivapunjabharikrishnavishnurama, I had no say in the selection process. No, I inherited these three cats. The first, Bobbarker, is my son's cat. When he moved in with his girlfriend, he said his apartment wouldn't allow pets. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that it's his girlfriend that won't allow pets...The second, Billcullen, was my mother's cat. I tried to get my sister to take it after our mother moved into assisted living, but she said that she didn't want a cat throwing up on her rugs. I guess a cat throwing up on my rugs is perfectly acceptable. Well, my rugs are certainly cheaper and therefore, more throwupable, I suppose. The third cat, Chuckwoolery, was my husband's cat. He brought it home from work one day to save it from a fate worse than death, which I won't go into here...too gruesome. After he died, the cat just sort of stayed around. So, three cats...two too many.
Bobbarker is a geriatric cat. Which means he's cranky and he tries to sit on me every time I sit down. He also insists upon drinking from my glass of water. Yes, he has water of his own. No, he doesn't drink his own water; he wants mine. Is it annoying? Absolutely. He'll even go so far as to get his head stuck in the glass if the water level has gotten sufficiently low, thus flinging the glass and its contents to the floor. He's also the preeminent thrower up. No, he's not sick. He eats too fast because he figures if he eats fast enough, there won't be any cat food for the other two and they will dry up and blow away, ensuring that he will get ALL the catfood.
As the most junior member of the cat herd although chronologically as old as Bobbarker, almost, Billcullen is still trying to find his place in the pecking order. He already knows he will forever be at the bottom of the pack among the other cats, so he tries to bully Sas. Poor Sas, she has only love in her heart for all living things (except squirrels) and she cannot understand why Billcullen hisses at her and slaps her every chance he gets. It hurts her feelings, as you can see from her pic at the top. Bill tried that hissing thing with me once. Just once...
Chuckwoolery is the most pleasant and agreeable of the trio. He's also the youngest, which might explain it. He doesn't throw up; he doesn't hiss or slap. Mostly he minds his own business, which is exactly what a cat should do. Sometimes, he even licks Sas on the head and rubs his head upon hers, marking her as his very own. She loves that shit and goes all goofy-dog every time he does it. A most agreeable cat indeed.
What with all the hissing, and fighting, the throwing up and the slapping, there's never a dull moment around here for Sas and me. Especially when there's one running around with a glass stuck on his head...which is almost as amusing as putting Scotch tape on their little cat feet. I don't let Sas do that much anymore though because, well, it's just not right and it annoys the shit out of the little cat bastards.
--Ina
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