The Dude

100 Happy Days #34

014This old cat–

~that wakes me up at 3 am because he wants something different to eat…

~that still thinks he can beat up great big dogs, like he used to…

~that once caught a fly in mid air by slapping his two paws together…

~that is on a owner imposed diet of 100% meat…

~that is back to weighing over 10 pounds…

~that has a thicker, shiney-er coat than he’s ever had in his life…

~that has survived four deadly infections, a near-completely severed tail, bone cancer and multiple b-b-shots…

~that has no idea he is missing a back leg…

~that has moved with us 5 different times…

~that likes to lay by my feet…no matter where I am sitting…

~that has front claws like grappling hooks which he uses to jump on my bed and which will easily go through your toenail if you happen to get in his way…

~that is three times older than my oldest grandchild and 3 years younger than my grown up son…

makes me very happy–except for the toenail part–indeed.



That Tough Guy

100 Happy Days #6


What would a list of happiness be without a picture of my dear, sweet, silly old three legged cat…hmmmm? This sturdy fellow has had a pretty tough old life. As a matter of fact, this guy has been a fighter since he was very young–quite literally–whopping great, big, mean cats out of our yard and sometimes neighborhood, not to mention the dogs, three times his size that are sorry they ever met him. He’s come home with cuts and scrapes and even a completely broken tail one time. He’s been shot with a bebe gun more times than I care to think about–(an angry post that shall forever remain unwritten) and has several nicks in his ears and scars on his head to prove it. He was kidnapped–no, I’m not kidding–and taken nearly 50 miles away and after 9 days, found his way back to us–terrifically skinny and scarred up, but happily home. Then, last year, as you may know, he broke his back leg and was so brave about it, that we didn’t even know for a month. Eventually, he lost that leg, but sincerely–if you saw him, you’d swear he had no idea it was even gone. He’s gained weight since and his coat is thick and shiny again as if he were a youngster…but he’s not.

He has followed me around since he was a kitten and still seems to be happy enough just sitting a few inches away from me–no matter where I am. This very minute, he is laying dangerously close to the office chair I’m typing in, completely content to stay until I go upstairs. He’ll come with me, I know.

I’m pretty sure, this little kitty is the dearest, most loyal, non-judgemental friend I have ever had. I love him so much.

Please, just live forever, Beany.

Could you do that?

It would make me so happy.



That Girl


Oh, she’s a funny one, this girl.

She’s shy and quiet and timid and apprehensive and skittish and jumpy and aloof and bored…until…

someone sits down at the computer.


Then she will force her way between whomever it is and the keyboard and just stand there…in the way. You can’t really see the screen with a cat in your face and you certainly can’t type with a furry body standing between your arms and you absolutely can’t concentrate with a kitty head nudging into your chin every 10 seconds or so.

The funny part is that she is thrilled with the whole set up. In fact, I’m quite sure that she wonders what my problem is. I can almost hear her saying in her breathy, girlie feline voice, “Oh, don’t mind me. Just keep doing whatever it was that you were doing. I’m completely comfortable.”


And why shouldn’t she be?

She runs the place.


Beany Boy Update


As you can see, this old guy is doing great–better than he’s been in years. Why, he’s running up and down the stairs, following me everywhere I go, eating like a horse, catching mice in the garden, and swatting at his little sister Jiffy–just to teach her who is still the big man around here, in case she forgot. He’s even put back on some good solid weight to substantiate the claim. Legoless, we’re calling him, which is a hearty, tough guy name…with a double meaning.


Yeah, he’s even taken to bossing me around these days. “Let me out. Let me in. Let me out and then right back in. Feed me the chicken food. Feed me the turkey this time. Now let me out again–and of course, right back in. Oh, he’s pushing his luck pulling this stuff all day long, but he nearly needs a swat when he tries it at 4 in the morning. Oh, and he’s developed a funny meow to go along with his new “I run the joint” attitude. It’s a howl of sorts. And I’d be happy to ignore it, except that it’s quite impossible at the crack of dawn. This guy’s a nut job I tell you…a twenty year old nut job.

Good thing I positively love the living daylights out of this old, silly cat.


And apparently he isn’t missing the back leg, one little bit.




Beany Boy


For those of you who have wondered~ my cute little Beany Boy got his stitches out this week. Of course, I didn’t stay in the room when they did it…not brave enough for that stuff. No siree. The tough old Bald Kid said, “Run along momma. I’ve got this,” and so I did. Hid out in the lobby pacing around just out of ear shot…just in case. Beany has been eating better food and has gotten much stronger in the past few weeks, so, it took someone manly like the Bald Kid to hold him tight for the stitches adventure–and so he didn’t eat the face off the vet. That would have been unfortunate.

But he’s happy to be back home and to be finished with the creepy medicine that we were suppose to give him twice a day. Best of all, now the old war-horse can finally go outside again–which makes us all very happy indeed. Just in the backyard for now, though until his hair grows back because he still looks a bit alarming…like a plucked chicken.

So, we’ll keep him close, till he can go out front with his kitty head held high and his dignity firmly in place.

You know, till he gets back on his feet…

all three of them.




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