Stache, the oldest. We got her because when my wife and I first married I didn’t know what to get her for our anniversary. Not having a lot of money I asked her what she wanted. She wanted a cat, and so we got 'Stache…so named because of her half mustache. She’s around 12 or 14 years old now. Her personal satement: “We are not amused.”
Banshee. the other female. Believe it or not, Banshee was the runt of her litter. No one wanted her. A coworker I had gave her to us. we wanted a kitten to keep 'Stache company while we were at work. 'stache tried to be motherly to the tiny kitten, and while they got along well, Banshee has a bit of a temper. She is ultimately my cat, because I feed her with a bottle when she was a kitten. I think she feels I’m her mother. She almost died once when she had some virus that stopped her from producing red blood cells. It cost me 1200 deutschmarks (before the euro and I was in Germany) to save her life. But I had to, she’s my cat. Banshee has had a few nediucal problems but she’s alright. Her eyes are rubby because of a defect in her eyelids the vet told me.(ingrown hairs…but it would cost a fortune to fix and its not causing her pain or loss of sight) Her vision is okay, and we try to keep her eyes cleaned out. she likes to have her belly rubbed. Her personal statement: “You WILL love me. This I command!”
Jet Jaguar. My boy! Abandoned by his former owners he begged for food in front of my door shortly after I moved into a new home. (the wife and other ctas were at in laws during the move until I secured housing) I came home on a rainy cold day and found him waiting to be fed. I felt bad and let him in, washed him, fed him and asked the original dirtbag owners if they wanted him back. They pretty much said they were going to just leave him on the street when they moved in a few weeks. So I kept him. Jet has had it rough. before we got him fixed he chased the other 2 around and was a terror. Because of that, 'Stache only tolerates him. Banshee does too, but they don’t like either too much. Jet had his own adventure two years ago. Back in germany for another tour, he got out and was missing for more than 2 weeks. I was sure we’d never see him again. Then one night 'Stache and Banshee were crying at the door. When I opened it Jet came running in, skinny, dirty and hungry. He’s been a lot more affectionate and appreciative since then. He always wants me to pay attention to him, but prefers to sleep neer my wife on the couch. He comes to me when I’m sleeping and always ently pokes me with his paw for middle of the night chin scratches. Still when I was recovering from surgery he stayed on the bed with me as if to say “I’m here with ya, buddy.”. His personal statement: “There can be only one!”
Merlyn I guess would be 7 or 8 now? He picked me out as his human some years back when he was still an older kitten. Apparently his previous people had moved out of my complex and thought that the courtyard would be a perfectly good home for him. :mad: I suspect they abused him, sadly, since he has an oddly shaped sternum and has always had a phobia of brooms. Anyway, I got home from work one day, he runs right up to me and starts twining around my legs. I pet him for a while, then stand to go inside and he just follows me all the way in, up three flights of stairs. Clearly I wasn’t being given a choice.
Púca would be about 5 or 6, then. He came to me sort of indirectly… I was out with some folks at the movies on July 4th (we ditched the giant freakin mob downtown at the fireworks), and on our way back to the El a tiny black kitten ran up to us and begged for attention. We all decided she couldn’t be more than 6 months old, that’s how tiny she was. Pete’s older cat had recently passed away, and he was looking for a companion for his other cat, so he decided to take her in. And a couple days later noticed she was putting on enormous amounts of weight. So the litter was born a couple months later and he was very very stressed at having seven cats in the house instead of the intended two, so Púca came home with me when he was around 10 weeks old.
He’s a little stray that ran behind the car one night and I lured out with some chicken. After that chicken we became best friends forever apparently. He’s skitterish around people he doesn’t know and he always hangs around here and scarfs down food like we never feed him, so I think he’s a stray or abandoned.
This here is Bruno, the primary cat. He is instantly friendly and approaches everyone, but he’s not at all sincere. Personal statement: If you don’t know where the cat food’s kept, what good are you?
This is Lloyd, the backup cat. He is timid, but once he decides you can be trusted he’ll get in your lap whenever you sit down (and try to lie on his back with his legs stuck out ridiculously). He makes a variety of amusing sounds but never learned a proper meow. Personal statement: Duh…
This is url=http://www.flickr.com/photos/7428938@N08/2476965890/]Lilith the Doberman, who is a lot larger now. Yesterday my husband told me she’d only be a puppy for another year. 364 days and counting. Her personal statement: Let’s eat! Go! Play! No, eat! Eat! Pow!
Ethel is the Beagle, and I got her as an 8 week old puppy about 3.5 years ago. Just like any hound, she always has her nose to the ground trying to pick up any sort of scent that she can chase down.
India is the other dog…and she is sort of a mutt. My wife took her from a hoarder who had many dogs in her basement. From what we can tell she is part lab, part pit bull, and part greyhound. India is a little over four years old.
These dogs are the best of friends, and they practically do everything together. If India barks, Ethel barks. If Ethel finds the stinkiest spot in the yard to roll in, India will join her immediately. They sleep in the same kennel together, which over the years has led to one dog throwing up on the other one and vice versa…
Max the Bulgarian cat, when we were still in Bulgaria. (My house didn’t have insulation, and he figured out a way to get through the roof tiles. He liked to go up there and yowl at the world.) His personal statement is “I WILL KILL YOU.” (I’ve pointed out that if he kills me, he won’t have anyone to feed him or snuggle with, but that doesn’t stop his attacks.)
