2994. Things happen

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A cat has nine lives; which is eight more than Owen got.

I have a cat. I have had Shelby for years. We almost grew up together. I got given her for my seventeenth birthday and I’m now thirty-five. I’m not sure how many of her nine lives Shelby has already spent. Cats are independent creatures. They’ll come home looking innocent after being chased by a puma and demand dinner as if nothing had happened.

But it was my neighbour, Owen, who gave me the greatest concern. He was one of those modern teenagers with no regard or respect for anyone else. He told me that only effeminate, spineless creeps would have a cat. He said if he saw Shelby on the road he’d run over it, or if he saw it outside my property he’d shoot it like he would a common squirrel.

I was really glad when his brakes failed and he went over a cliff. How did that happen I wonder?

32 thoughts on “2994. Things happen”

    1. obbverse

      We took our ca- Boss to the vets for a check-up for his 16th year. He passed the poking and probing with flying colours, and the vet even emerged laceration-free as well. I think he’s done his nine lives and is aiming at going into double figures in the cat life cycle. Gotta admit he looks good. He’s stopped ignoring us today, so we escaped his disdain at going to the vets relatively lightly. So far.

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      1. Bruce Goodman Post author

        Our cat (creatively called Pussycat) is in her 19th year and has moved with us 13 times! We treat her as a ninety year old grandmother. She has earned it. She forgets where she is, dislikes most (if not all) brands of commercial catfood and now lives on eating pure expensive chicken, beef and (oh for goodness sake not lamb again). She keeps us up most of the night with her meowing – going from one bed to another – and we will be devastated when she passes away! She has trained two dogs over the years and we won’t get another at present because it would stress her too much to train them.

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  7. obbverse

    Our cat looks set to go on for a while yet, but he is a sweetie really. We get up in the morning and he has left a trail of odd socks, tea-towels and hankies by our bed. I’ve been told that’s a sign of love, but I think he might be a Klepto cat at heart.

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