Two cats, double the trouble

  • Friday, April 4, 2014

Doc and I got a problem. Itís not a big problem, I guess in the scheme of things most folks would say, but it is to us. I got asked about it before it happened, but it was one of those questions you know you canít say no to, even if deep down you wanted too. If I remember right it happened on a Saturday morning, before I even had my coffee yet, which I guess is a good a time as any to get something over on me. I think it was a setup. Here I am, with my hands shaking, trying not to pour hot coffee on my foot, and two of the three beautiful ladies in my life are offering to pour my coffee for me, asking me what I want for breakfast, and did I have any plans for the day? Usually Iím met with grunts on Saturday morning when I get up, but instead Iím met with angelic smiles, this should have been my first clue.

ďDaddy, can we get a cat?í Uh oh, I knew I should have stayed in bed. Years ago we had another cat, a black one named Rosy, she didnít like me, and I didnít like her, which worked out pretty good. Other than feeding her and the other essentials, we had nothing what so ever to do with each other. Then a few years later, we got Daisy, a calico, who took on the same attitude of Rosy towards me. Food, litter, leave the big guy alone, and heíll leave you alone. To be honest I was getting kinda lonesome so a few years later I got Doc, and itís been us against them ever since. Till Rosy passed away. Daisy looked as if she could care less, so maybe they werenít as close as I thought.

Maybe all in all my weird relationship with the cats has been a good thing, because if I ever petted them I better have a Benadryl handy. Well, letís just say I gave in, because a couple hours later, here they rolled in with a tabby named Luca, KT is a Godfather fan, and the relationship dynamic has changed again around the Bruce house.

This cat wonít leave me and Doc alone! Iíll be sitting in the chair; he jumps up on the arm and tries to start playing tag with me. Or Doc will be sleeping on his bed, and he jumps on his head, and then dashes off like heís saying ďTag, your it.Ē Then Doc looks up at me and says, ďDude you got to do something!Ē Or when I let Doc out, and Iím waiting at the door to let him in, Luca is between me and the door, just waiting. Every now and then heíll look up at me as if to say, ĎWhatís he doing?Ē And I have to catch my self, ďHe taking aÖ.Ē.

Now Iím talking to a cat!

I figured he would never go close to the door again after what happened when we had him a few days. He decided to make a run for it. And I couldnít catch him. I tried folks. I didnít want to tell KT her cat ran away. But after a long cold rainy night Luca figured he had it made where he was at to start with.

But with this cat itís always something.

If I get up and go to the kitchen, heís on my heels, ďYouíre gonna feed me, youíre gonna feed me!Ē I donít care if itís fifty times a day. And the after affects of a cat eating, MAN!

Or Iíll be in the den, and I hear something like a ripping sound, and sheís behind my chair, trying to climb it like a pine tree. Docís catching it too. Heíll just be standing there and heíll jump on Docís back, ďRide Ďum cowboyí, then hauls tail. ďDude you got to do something.Ē

But now Luca is taking his life in his own hands, or paws now. Last night he learned another trick. Just as I was sitting down in my chair, you know that point where you are bending your knees but havenít made contact yet, well a grayish black dot flashed between me and the chair. He had it timed perfect or I would have got him. Now heís got me paranoid!

I think itís time that Luca and Daisy had a talk:

ďDonít mess with the big guy; me and him got a good thing going!Ē

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