Sammy the cat...
If you're a consistent reader of this blog, you know that I have a very soft spot for animals. I fought for those baby birds' right to live, and I was appalled that my roommate would want to destroy a double digit number of frogs. And those aren't even domesticated critters. You should see me with the doggies and the kitties. (The only animal I thoroughly despise is the snake...they can all rot in hell).
Growing up, my family household was the area rehab center for strays. If a creature showed up on the front porch, looking hungry and miserable, we fed it and loved it. We couldn't say no (well, my dad could, but he doesn't exactly wear the pants when it comes to these matters...and I mean that in the most endearing way possible). I guess this is still a common trend with the Quanks. Of our three dogs, two are mutts. Molly is an adopted mix of Brittany spaniel and German shepard. Belle is a rat terrier my mom found in a ditch while taking a walk down the country road in front of the Quank homestead. (A little sidenote...Belle is knocked the hell up, and she's extremely visibly pregnant. She could have those pups any day now. Good for me, since I'm visiting my parents. I want to coach her through the labor. I'm not kidding).
Last night on the way home from the bar in the Loop, Matt and I found an orange kitty...a very skinny, malnourished orange kitty. As he purred and snuggled up to our legs instantly upon meeting us, we pondered what to do. Obviously, given the spot we were departing, our most rational judgment was not at its peak. But Matt, who is definitely not a cat person, offered to keep him in his storage room in the basement of his condo building overnight in order to at least feed him. So, we got into the car with our new friend and wondered if he'd freak the funk out. Instead, the cat settled into my lap while I drove and was calmer than calm.
This morning, I made the phone call to my mom. It didn't take much convincing for her to approve me bringing the cat home. This thing contentedly sat on my lap the entire 2 hour drive to Christopher from St. Louis. It's a dog inside a cat's body. Matt and I went through a list of names before we finally settled on Sammy (short for Uncle Sam, since he's a 4th of July kitty). Morris (of Morris Day and the Time) was a close second.
Sammy wasn't a very happy camper when he met Pugsley the pug. I'm nervous for his introduction with Molly and Belle. But the way I figure it is that I'm offering him a much better shot than he had roaming the streets of St. Louis. I hope he sticks with it. Despite being newly allergic to them, cats have always been my favorite.
Growing up, my family household was the area rehab center for strays. If a creature showed up on the front porch, looking hungry and miserable, we fed it and loved it. We couldn't say no (well, my dad could, but he doesn't exactly wear the pants when it comes to these matters...and I mean that in the most endearing way possible). I guess this is still a common trend with the Quanks. Of our three dogs, two are mutts. Molly is an adopted mix of Brittany spaniel and German shepard. Belle is a rat terrier my mom found in a ditch while taking a walk down the country road in front of the Quank homestead. (A little sidenote...Belle is knocked the hell up, and she's extremely visibly pregnant. She could have those pups any day now. Good for me, since I'm visiting my parents. I want to coach her through the labor. I'm not kidding).
Last night on the way home from the bar in the Loop, Matt and I found an orange kitty...a very skinny, malnourished orange kitty. As he purred and snuggled up to our legs instantly upon meeting us, we pondered what to do. Obviously, given the spot we were departing, our most rational judgment was not at its peak. But Matt, who is definitely not a cat person, offered to keep him in his storage room in the basement of his condo building overnight in order to at least feed him. So, we got into the car with our new friend and wondered if he'd freak the funk out. Instead, the cat settled into my lap while I drove and was calmer than calm.
This morning, I made the phone call to my mom. It didn't take much convincing for her to approve me bringing the cat home. This thing contentedly sat on my lap the entire 2 hour drive to Christopher from St. Louis. It's a dog inside a cat's body. Matt and I went through a list of names before we finally settled on Sammy (short for Uncle Sam, since he's a 4th of July kitty). Morris (of Morris Day and the Time) was a close second.
Sammy wasn't a very happy camper when he met Pugsley the pug. I'm nervous for his introduction with Molly and Belle. But the way I figure it is that I'm offering him a much better shot than he had roaming the streets of St. Louis. I hope he sticks with it. Despite being newly allergic to them, cats have always been my favorite.
posted by quank at 2:35 AM
3 Comments:
belle (rat terrier) is getting ready to blow at any point. if you want a good lap dog, she is sweet as can be. :) pups ready in 12 weeks!
Keith should eat Sammy as an appetizer.
Keith should eat Sammy as an appetizer.
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