You want to know about my CATS? Oh, they'll LOVE that. It's very little attention and love they've seen since we brought home the first of our five unusually large, loud, furless kittens. ...Sorry, I hate cats' eye view, too. What's next? Talking about "their humans"? Referring to the cats as our "furry children"? It's a slippery slope, my friends: one day it's "furless kittens" and the next day it's "My cat walks all over me!" sweatshirts.
We have three cats, all acquired in ignorance of our creature-saturated future. The first one was Ge0rge. (You are going to think I am a PARANOID FREAK for disguising my CATS' names, and listen, I agree. But on the other hand, I feel like my mother-in-law is EVERYWHERE. The walls! They have eyes and ears! And horns!)
So, this is Ge0rge, who in actual life has an o and not a zero in his name:
We adopted him from a shelter when he was a kitten. Ge0rge is not my preferred kitten style: he was frisky and sunshiney and hypering up and down the walls of his cage. He would run right up our bodies and sit on our shoulders.
The kitten I picked out more my style: sniveling, clinging, cowering. That was OIiver, who normally has a lowercase L instead of a capital I, and who normally does not have a mysterious red scuff on his nose:
OIiver is also a shelter cat, chosen painfully from a litter of four very similar kittens. His mother was also in the shelter, and I still wish I'd taken her, too. She was a very nice cat. And then maybe OIiver wouldn't spend so much time sucking his own paw. Plus, it turns out I don't like kittens, even if they're in my preferred style.
And so the third cat we adopted was a grown cat. She was a stray in our apartment complex, a knocked-up teenager. Someone else took her in (technically, she took herself in: she walked right into their apartment without asking) when she needed a place to have her kittens, and then we took her when her kittens were old enough to be given away. I thought it would be sad to separate her from the kittens, but you should have seen her shaking off the shackles.
We named her Amelia, but called her that about three times before we nicknamed her M0use, and we've never called her anything else since then. You wouldn't know it to look at her now, but when she was younger she was thin and almost all white, with huge ears. So the nickname seemed less silly back then.
Gift ideas for an 8-year-old, part 1 of 2 - I have TWO 8-year-olds to buy for, so I’m going to split it up into two posts. Today will be the things we’re getting for Edward. I dislike saying “Gift id...