Love those Cats


My wife, Claudia, loves her cats and I love my wife.  I would do most anything for that woman, and I suspect that she would, in turn, do the same for me.

We have a few cats.  I have to admit that we never ever intended to have any, but they sort of found their way to our house and into our hearts.   Our cat collection started with our neighbor getting a kitten. The kitten grew up and had kittens. These kittens also gained in age and maturity, and had kittens of their own.  You can see where this is going and it led to a rise in the neighborhood cat population. 

For some reason a couple of the cats decided that they liked us.   They started hanging out on our patio.  My guess is that they preferred our company to that of the other cats; and then someone in my family (I won't mention who) made a fatal mistake.  Someone left the cats some food.

Ah ha!"  I cried.  "I caught you feeding those cats."

"What's that plate you're holding?" was the reply

"Oh, just some table scraps." I mumbled

"What were you going to do with those scraps?" 

"It doesn't matter." I responded, "You have been feeding the cats."

"Yes," responded my partner, "and it seems evident to me that you have as well."

I hope that you as readers will learn something from this.  Never, never, ever, feed a stray cat.    They will become forever yours.  What were we to do?  If we didn't feed them they would probably starve.  We fed them; we took them to the vet, arranged for shots, and even had them neutered.

We loved our cats.  We inherited two brothers.  Both were Maine Coon Cats, big beautiful animals with long hair and a very regal appearance.  We gave them the names of Huggy Bear and Teddy Bear.  Both cats were very squeezable, very loveable, and quickly found their way into our hearts.   

Huggy was a natural clown.  He loved to play; he loved people and thought that the entire world loved him. 

I used to jog about 2.4 miles each day.  I had measured the distance around the block and discovered each circuit to be 0.6 of a mile.   I would usually do four circuits.  Huggy would often wait for me under a parked car, and as I ran by would jump out and chase me until he tired.   By the time I made it around the block, Huggy would again be waiting under the car for me to return.  It was a great game for him, and I have to admit that I was amused by it as well.
Teddy Bear was a bigger cat than Huggy, (and Huggy was quite large). Teddy wasn't near as outgoing as his brother.  He was very shy and endowed with very long fine hair.   His hair had a tendency to knot up and become matted.  In spring when most cats shed their winter coats, Teddy would develop huge knotty lumps of fur. 

Claudia was very concerned and decided to give him a haircut, big mistake.  Cats don't care to remain still while they are being trimmed.  The next thing my wife found herself doing was cutting more than hair.

"Bill, we have to get the cat to the vet" shouted my frantic wife.  "I accidentally cut him.

"No problem, we can do it," said I.

The vet was called, and I gathered the animal up.   Big problem, our plastic cat carrier was too small for our big cat.   I tried to squeeze the animal inů Big mistake. The next thing I knew, I was dripping blood.

"We don't need a cat carrier," I said, while trying to wrap a bloody finger.  "I can just put him in the car.  He can ride to the vet without a carrier."

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