For all those times I've almost tripped on you coming down the stairs. Or been mauled by your tiny sharp claws as I tried to pass you by. Or schooled you on your propensity to dip your paws into the fish tank in your daily attempts to eat Squiggy the killer goldfish. Or yelled at you to stop chasing, jumping, attacking, and biting Emma every time she comes out of her self imposed witness protection program. Or told you to stop staring at the birds with blood lust in your eyes ...
For waking me up at 3:30 this morning, and for every other middle of the night nocturnal urge to give kitty kisses until I wake up long enough to throw you out of my room and close the door or just nudge you off the side of the bed depending on how tired I am. And for all the pictures you've knocked off their shelves, repeatedly. And for all my angels you've knocked off their shelves, repeatedly. And for all the times I've told you that cats do not belong on counters, or in my shower, or in the washing machine, or in the dryer, or in the sink. (Which is not to forget that I know you were on top of the kitchen cupboards again, since you've knocked yet another plant over and out of place, despite our last conversation regarding the positive side of self control.)
And even though I've enough claw marks on me to make people wonder, including the one on top of my head when I was playing peek a boo with you on the stairs last night and you felt the need to swat me before settling yourself down to stare at the television like you were some sort of idiot box junkie. And for all the times you've chewed holes in my socks and KC's socks because we didn't get them into the hamper quick enough. And for the five dollars you absconded with that we haven't yet been able to find. And for the ribbons you managed to find last night and trail around the house. And for sliding down the banister again this morning - yes, I heard you crash at the bottom ...
I still love you and would adopt your dumb ass all over again even knowing what I know now. That for all that random cuteness, those strange amber eyes fringed by cobalt blue edging ... You're really a tiny terror kitten from hell bent on destroying the universe as we know it!
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6 comments:
It's the faults that give us character, and are what we love.
Sounds delightful. :)
Though your patience must be impressive.
Though it sounds like fun, those are all the reasons I don't have pets... except for Kelso, a beta I adopted to save him from the dreaded toilet flush.
He was my first pet in 5 years... man, I miss him.
hey have a good weekend. amy
sounds like our cat... the DUDE.. it must be in all caps.. that is how he thinks of himself... he repeatedly.. as in 15 times a day knocks things over.. starts fights with Malcolm..(80lb boxer) and manages to still look innocent in all of it.. he even throws things on the floor for the puppy to chew on.. while he sits in the window sill looking smugly satisfied when she gets in trouble.. but i wouldn't trade him for any other animal on the planet.. he is more than a cat.. he is simply.. the DUDE
Tammy ... How strange. I just finished reading a book where the girl in it had a cat named THE DUDE. If your cat is anything like the one I read about, I can see why he's desrved the name.
Tex ... There's nothing like cuddling with fish, but cats are cuter. Although sometimes I want to throttle my cat(s) ...
Orb ... What patience would you be speaking of? As far as I know, I don't have any.
Inky ... Right back at ya. Have a great weekend and don't let the FW's bring ya down.
Paitence, because the cat has caused you tons of havoc and you've let to lose your affection for it. Suppose that's natural, but putting up with that much would be trying.
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