Does Everyone Have Cats?

We’re on numbers three and four. We got a pure bred Siamese as a kitten not long after we got married in ‘91. She was a scrawny little runt we named Murphy Brown (our favourite show at the time). Cute as a button and took to me immediately.

The wife decided she “needed a friend” since we were both gone for most of the day working. A buddy of mine had two cats that both had kittens, but the one cat had only one kitten in it’s litter. We chose it and initially named it Corky Sherwood (another MB character). Then we found out it was a male. We renamed him Axl Rose and he was every bit as ornery as his namesake. He was my wife’s little boy.

They did not get along for most of their time together, but when Murphy got older and started having problems, Axl seemed to know and he finally started to accept her. She had a stroke and we had to put her down the following day. She was almost 15. I cried like a baby.

Axl seemed lonely and we started getting interested in Bengals, so we found a breeder and purchased a female kitten. She was supposed to be my replacement for Murphy, but she also took to my wife and suddenly Axl became MY boy. His last four or five years were spent primarily on my lap.

At nineteen plus, he too had a stroke and unfortunately I had to go out of town on business. I said my goodbyes that morning and hoped he’d be able to hang on for a few days until I got back, but the wife had to take him in that same night and the vet recommended euthanasia. I spent most of that night weeping in my Toledo hotel room.

They both sit in their urns on our fireplace mantel.

We waited a year or so before getting number four, another Bengal named Harper. Again, she was supposed to be mine, but to tell you the truth, she is a bit of a loner and doesn’t really like either me or my wife. She spends about 22 hours a day in our water bed, comes down for food, treats and litter box visits and occasional play, but rarely sits with either of us.

She DOES seem to find her way in between my legs when I finally find my way to bed each night, but that’s about the extent of her interaction with the humans.

All of our cats have been strictly indoor animals and declawed, even though most say it’s a cruel unnecessary surgery. We initially tried just the front paws on Murphy, but after I woke up soaking wet from a 1/4” razor blade thin “slice” in the water bed that you couldn’t even see, she lost her rears and all subsequents have been clawless.

GO DODGERS!!!

All four of ours adopted to their declawing however, we also had all done when they were very young and our vet uses lasers, so none of them even seemed to know any difference.

I’ve seen what those claws can do to furniture and other nice things, even if they have scratching posts and pads. One of my exes had a clawed cat and her arms (and sometimes legs) always looked like she’d gone a few rounds with Freddy Kruger.

We truly love and pamper the hell out of our cats and despite what PETA & animal rights organizations say, we feel declawing is our best and ONLY option to continue having them.

Waterbed mattresses ain’t cheap! 🤣

GO DODGERS!!!

Sleet kills mice & even rats. They can be very useful that way. I saw one rat torn in half. 

We have squirrels, possums, raccoons, mice, rats, & used to have pigeons. Sly killed two of the flying feathered rats & another was hiding in my wheel well when I was backing out of the driveway. I heard a thud & saw it lying on the concrete. It had blood coming out it's ears. That made me feel pretty bad.

Don't squirrels carry rabies? I don't want my cats messing with squirrels, raccoons & possums. Especially possums. Vicious creatures.

I used to leave the front door open a crack when Sleet was really little. She's a bird brain & can't figure out if she wants to stay in or go out. So rather than listen to her clawing a rug or wailing outside, I left the door open a crack with some kite string keeping it from blowing open. 

One night I wake up to a crunch-crunch-crunch sound & figure one of the cats is getting a midnight snack. Low & behold there's a good sized raccoon in here. What to do? Don't panic. I sort of crowd him into leaving. As I was closing the door behind him, he turned around & peeked once more. His nose leading the way. Kinda like - 'is it too late to change my mind?' "Raccoon gotta go. Go raccoon."

A month later the same thing happened. This time he brought a date. I had TWO raccoons in my kitchen. What don't raccoons like? I imagined light. Still haven't checked that out for veracity. But it worked. I turned every light on & they left. 

'You don't have to be rude.'

No longer does Sleet have control over the door. You're making a decision when you go outside. Live with it. 

I left some more dry food out for the scrawny little cat & fed both mine tuna. The scrawny cat lapped up her dry food. Mine are so spoiled it took like 20 minutes to finish off the tuna.

Mom came to stay with me before she died. One time she says there's a butt ugly cat out on the wall. I stepped outside & came face to face with a possum. I froze & then acted casual. Don't stir up the possum. I backed in & told Mom that was no cat. Amazing a woman from Newton County, Missouri (rural folk) didn't recognize a possum. But that goes to show how far my beloved mother's mind had gone.

I chased that oversized vermin out to the street with a water hose. Damn, those are ugly beasts. Fangs & claws you KNOW can F you up.

There is always roadkill in neighboring Lawndale, which I attribute to the golf course. If it looks like a possum, I'll run it over a second time. Just to make sure.

I grew up two blocks from Venice High. When Tessa was a child we'd go to the Venice canals to feed the ducks. Right on Washington Blvd. there was this Chinese restaurant that specialized in Mandarin duck. You can imagine the silent jokes that went through my mind. 

Here ducky, ducky...