Startling Discoveries

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There really are no words to describe how startled I am by the fact that I own a cat. He is fat. He is needy. He whines every morning to be fed from the mudroom where he is sequestered nightly. And he is currently shedding more hair than my hand-me-down Dyson can extract from the carpet. (As a side note, it just occurred to me that my vacuum is also held together by duct tape. Along with my washing machine, and I’m not sure if this trend means I am becoming a red neck or that I AM a red neck. Either way, something of concern I shall think about tomorrow.) Back to the cat.

His name is Wellington, but we call him Welly. He started off as a porch kitty. He got in a cat fight though, which required vet treatment. So then he became a mostly indoor, and front de-clawed kitty. Then the night I got in from my 40 hour trip home from India he got in another cat fight outside my window at 4am. Picture me, in pajama’s outside trying to coax my crazy cat to come out from under the boxwood and let me bring him inside. I mean, he has NO FRONT CLAWS! Why is he trying to defend the honor of the homestead?? Just run up a tree or something. Oh no, not Welly. He just chased the other cat down the road and I gave up and went inside to get a little more sleep. Well, 2 weeks and $350 later, I lowered the boom on Welly. No more outside for you Mister! You haven’t the sense to stay out of trouble so now you’ll have to be an all indoor Kitty. I actually had this conversation with him, which I think is a sure sign of something more alarming than potentially being a red neck. Am I becoming a….. Cat Person?

The signs are there people, there’s no denying it. I talk to the cat. Sometimes in that voice you use on babies. I have pictures of the cat. (see below. But in my defense, it WAS fairly cute seeing him all curled up under the tree.) I worried about him when he got in the last cat fight and his ear got an abscess. (Although, again in my defense an abscess by the brain can kill you. So, I think it was a valid worry.) My dear friend Tracey has been accusing me for some time of loving my cat. I have emphatically denied it. I didn’t even want the cat, for crying out loud. My husband and middle son talked me into it, with promises of doing all the work. But, I think it’s time to concede. Here is how I currently describe Welly:

He’s everything I ever wanted in the cat I didn’t want.

Not sure if it’s love, but I know I’ll be up feeding him tomorrow morning on my day off when I could be sleeping in, because, well it does seem a little unfair to make him eat later. But, for the love of all that’s good, somebody stop me if I begin bringing up Welly in conversations or have a T-shirt made with his picture on it!

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