in 1999, my house was the place for stray cats to give birth. or, should i say, one slutty cat to give birth five times. yep. FIVE times. try as i might, i couldn't get my hands on her to get rid of her (the ex's stupid idea) or get her fixed (my ingenius idea). then, one day, i hear a knock at the door. that's right...a knock. when i get to the door there sits slut cat with the cutest, fluffiest, blue-eyed kitten in tow. i open the door and she pushes the kitten at me (no. i am not making this up). i was told to take the cats to the pound, or find homes for them. i took them to the vet and got mama fixed.
FLASH FORWARD september 2011. my youngest kid is moving out of my old homestead and into an apartment. he cannot take e'beth. he also cannot find a home for her. she hates to be cuddled. she stinks. she hates being inside. she is 12 years old. jamie says for me to bring her home. did i mention jamie hates cats? no. really. jamie HATES cats. he has rules: #1~he doesn't want to smell kitty litter; no problem, she stays outside and i am meticulous with a litter box; #2~she better not claw the furniture; no problem, she was declawed 11 1/2 years ago before i knew she hated the indoors; and #3 (and, by far, the most important)~she can't lay on him; no problem, jamie, remember how i said she hates being indoors?
FLASH FORWARD today
she LAYS on jamie.
the problem with cats is that they get the exact same look on their face whether they see a moth or an axe-murderer. ~paula poundstone
She is a great trainer. She trained you and Jamie. No doubt about that one!!!
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