Cats

Cats.  You've gotta love 'um.  They are hilarious and if you've never been around one or gotten to know one, you are really missing out on some fun.  My assistant back at MCDH had a cat with six pads on each foot and was appropriately named Toes.  She always had to be sure her windows were up because Toes liked to sleep in her truck, on her truck, and left footprints all over her windshield letting her know he'd attempted a break in.  Once he fell asleep on her windshield in the sun, and even flipping her windshield wipers on didn't get him to move.

Brian taught Muffin to jump into his arms way back when, after Muff unexpectedly jumped on Brian's back one morning.  Muff learned to jump to all of us except one person, who routinely tortured and pestered him and took great pride in dishing it out.  Muff liked him OK... but knew never to trust this person (Fred) because he was likely to put socks on his back, tie old ribbons around his neck, or try to trap him under the sheets.  Muff was no dummy.  He did like it when Fred would get the kitty wand out and play with him but beyond that, whenever Fred was nearby, Muff slept with one eye open.

When we were first married, we adopted a cat, Burleson, who was a Siamese weirdo.  He was the color of honey butter, hence the name someone gave him.  We thought he might settle in but never did, so Fred stuffed him into a pillowcase, and gave him to some guy and his wife, who really wanted him.  Fred didn't bother to get a car carrier, oh, no,--just grabbed a pillowcase.  I'm not thinking that cat was one bit nicer after he exited that pillow case.

Muff used to love Christmas morning after everything was opened so he could snoop among the boxes and play (chew) with the ribbons and wrapping paper.  If you wanted to watch, you had to go in the kitchen and act like you were doing something else, in order to spy on him.  A couple of times I saw him hunker down in a box only to then shoot out of it, and tear off down the hall.  Then he'd come back, and do it all over again.  The boys or Fred would drape ribbon around his neck--they were decorating him-- Muff would get  scared, and then he'd run like hell, dragging all the ribbons behind himself in a panic.  He was known to do the same thing with plastic sacks.  He'd poke his head through the handle part, get scared and take off, billowing a plastic parachute behind himself.  He'd run until he was either exhausted, got his head out, or one of us (me) rescued him.

Muff was a pretty verbal guy, too.  He was always telling one of us to do this or that.  It was weird because you could always tell what he wanted.  His growl was real deep and throaty and usually meant he was about to open the floodgates on you.  It was always guaranteed to make Fred laugh.  The growl--no the pee part.  I vividly remember the first time Hudson laid eyes on Muff.  Hud was a toddler and looked at me like "what is that?"  The next thing I knew, Hud took off down the hall after Muff, running to our bedroom, trying to slide under the bed, to get a better look at Muff. 

The only downside to cats is the litter box and cat fur.  I absolutely hate both of those so until they breed a pee-less, poop-less, non-shedding, real cat, I'm out.  Hello, stuffed animal.