I was born in 1962; you do the math. (See also: I'm too lazy to remember to update this thing regularly.) I bought my first house in the summer of 2009; I share it with four cats and with the memories of The Runt and Little Girl, who both passed away in 2011. Rocky, the cat for whom this blog was named, passed away in 2008; I miss them all. I wish I lived somewhere where the winters weren't eight months long; other than that, life is good.
I guess they don't have scratch posts at the vet's.
Catnip, either.
Five days, an amount of money I'm not about to discuss, and no real definitive diagnosis other than "Fever of Unknown Origin" later, our bud is back home.
Welcome back, Soda! How clever of you to immediately begin putting your scent on everything again! So Pony thought he was going to get the scratching post, eh? Well, think again, Weasley cat!
Torties are bitchy, tuxedos are calm but playful, black cats are both dignified and goofy at the same time, and orange cats? Are insane. But so damn funny they get away with it.
3 comments:
Welcome back, Soda! How clever of you to immediately begin putting your scent on everything again! So Pony thought he was going to get the scratching post, eh? Well, think again, Weasley cat!
I have always wanted an orange cat.
Orange cats are like no other.
Torties are bitchy, tuxedos are calm but playful, black cats are both dignified and goofy at the same time, and orange cats? Are insane. But so damn funny they get away with it.
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