Nothing gets by this cat:
This is my preggo sister’s 17-year-old cat. Her name is JayJay and she spent the majority of her life living in the haunted closet of the house we grew up in. My sister and I shared a bedroom, which she should alone kept clean and orderly. In fact, I was such a bad roommate that JayJay preferred sharing the closet with the spirit of a creepy old lady that lingered there, watching over us as we slept. That should tell you exactly how bad of a roomie I must have been. (Catfish is the only other person who can attest to the “merits” of living with me and I fear she’d side with JayJay.)
Last year, JayJay took a flying leap and moved with my sister to her apartment while she was going to college. A year after that, JayJay moved with her Mama and Daddy to Virginia – a move that was farther away from home that I’d ever lived. Pretty big shakes for an old cat that spent her entire existence hanging out in a farmhouse closet. This week, the Hubs and I (accompanied by my mother, MawMaw Pug) have come to visit. And let me tell you: JayJay has moved on up to the Eastside, to a high-rise apartment in the skyyyy. Okay, technically its only the third floor, but let me tell after falling up a flight of wooden stairs, you find yourself feeling like you just scaled the Empire State Building.
But I digress.
Poor JayJay has done so well to us taking over her space. We have practically invaded her home in every way possible. We’re sleeping on HER couch, eating HER food and even had the audacity to move HER litterbox. And the old girl was totally taken it in stride. She hasn’t pooped in our luggage or popped the air mattress. Being the owner of Gertrude, needless to say I am shocked and pleasantly surprised by this. (Living with a cat that bites you on the nose in the middle of the night because you aren’t giving her enough room in the bed makes you appreciate the small things – like a cat that doesn’t naw on you while you sleep.)
Today my sister brought home a handful of tiny stuffed rats. JayJay instantly fell in love with them. She put them in a neat little pile and crawled on top them to sleep. She kissed them and rubbed her face on them like they were kittens. Then she shook them a little bit so they would know who is boss. I like a woman who puts her minion in place. Even if she doesn't exactly realize that one of her flock has been strategically placed on her forehead. If you were a 119-years-old in human years, you might miss a thing or two too.
This is my preggo sister’s 17-year-old cat. Her name is JayJay and she spent the majority of her life living in the haunted closet of the house we grew up in. My sister and I shared a bedroom, which she should alone kept clean and orderly. In fact, I was such a bad roommate that JayJay preferred sharing the closet with the spirit of a creepy old lady that lingered there, watching over us as we slept. That should tell you exactly how bad of a roomie I must have been. (Catfish is the only other person who can attest to the “merits” of living with me and I fear she’d side with JayJay.)
Last year, JayJay took a flying leap and moved with my sister to her apartment while she was going to college. A year after that, JayJay moved with her Mama and Daddy to Virginia – a move that was farther away from home that I’d ever lived. Pretty big shakes for an old cat that spent her entire existence hanging out in a farmhouse closet. This week, the Hubs and I (accompanied by my mother, MawMaw Pug) have come to visit. And let me tell you: JayJay has moved on up to the Eastside, to a high-rise apartment in the skyyyy. Okay, technically its only the third floor, but let me tell after falling up a flight of wooden stairs, you find yourself feeling like you just scaled the Empire State Building.
But I digress.
Poor JayJay has done so well to us taking over her space. We have practically invaded her home in every way possible. We’re sleeping on HER couch, eating HER food and even had the audacity to move HER litterbox. And the old girl was totally taken it in stride. She hasn’t pooped in our luggage or popped the air mattress. Being the owner of Gertrude, needless to say I am shocked and pleasantly surprised by this. (Living with a cat that bites you on the nose in the middle of the night because you aren’t giving her enough room in the bed makes you appreciate the small things – like a cat that doesn’t naw on you while you sleep.)
Today my sister brought home a handful of tiny stuffed rats. JayJay instantly fell in love with them. She put them in a neat little pile and crawled on top them to sleep. She kissed them and rubbed her face on them like they were kittens. Then she shook them a little bit so they would know who is boss. I like a woman who puts her minion in place. Even if she doesn't exactly realize that one of her flock has been strategically placed on her forehead. If you were a 119-years-old in human years, you might miss a thing or two too.
1 comments:
I personally think that this is the best photo on your page. Wow! That is one cute kitty!
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