Saturday, November 05, 2005


My kids have received the short end of the stick when it comes to animals. Bubby and I acquired our seven animals prior to the last four kids. Now we have five geriatric cats and two geriatric dogs that are about as much fun as a rock. They sleep all day. They sleep all night. We give them geriatric medicines to prolong their sad little existences. They eat. They poop. Really.......quite sad.

The children are always coming home from friends houses with so much to say. "Sasha got a new poodle puppy. It is soooooo cute!" says Tori. "Hunter got two new guinea pigs for his Birthday!" shouts Christian. "Can I have one?"

My response, as always is....."Hey guys, we have seven animals. Pick one. Make it your own. Feed it and love it but we are NOT getting any more animals!" After the "Awwww Mom" comments, they hang their heads and wander away. I feel bad........but not THAT bad.

After Friday though, I feel really bad. Tori and Christian decided to pick an animal and make it their own. Tori chose Quasimodo. He's a cat with brown and gray tiger stripes. He's about as animated as a bowl of fruit and sleeps a lot. Christian chose Mazzy our overstuffed 20 lb cat who is totally disgusting. Mazzy purrs like a Mack Truck and has cat dandruff and is needy and skittish. They spent their entire vacation day from school building cat houses and cat toys from boxes and paper. The one photo you see is of a "red carpet" entrance that Tori marked with welcome signs to her cat house. The other photo is of little paper balls that Christian made for the cats to play with. All day they waited for their comatosed cats to come play and sleep in their cat houses.

Boy, were they disappointed.

At one point they both carried the cats (I have no idea how Christian carried a wiggly 20 pound cat) to their boxes. After setting them both down, the cats ran like bats out of Hell. Surely the most exercise those feline have seen in the past six months.

Christian cried. Tori sulked. Leroy had a good laugh. He could care less about our current pets and cares even less if he ever got a pet to call his own. Leroy just thoroughly enjoyed watching his siblings work all day on a project while he played with his toys, just to see it blow up in their faces. He's got an evil streak in him that Leroy.

The final picture shows our cat Pooh actually in the cat house checking it out. The children weren't around when this happened and I had to take a picture to prove to them that their beloved cat houses ARE being used and the cats DO like them. Did I mention Pooh is our brain-damaged cat? Yes, the Veterinarian really did say Pooh is brain-damaged and not to expect too much out of that ball of fur. Will I mention to the children that our intellectually-challenged cat is the only one stupid enough to think this is a plush palace designed for Kitty?


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