While we all know I’m batshit crazy over cats (and animals in general), I have yet to really introduce my latest brood in proper fashion.
The bitchy love of my life, Teddy Bear, died suddenly last August. I’ve wanted to write about it so many times but the hole his departure left in my heart literally feels like molten lava spilling into my body when I try. Then the volcano eruption of uncontrollable scalding tears rush down my cheeks, so it’s best I save his obituary for another day. Or year. Or century.
My ride or die.
Yes, I’m talking about a cat. Many days and nights I long to be over the Rainbow Bridge with him. He was the last link I had to my previous life and endured the hardships into the one I now lead. But as we all know, the world keeps turning and so, now, I run a fucking zoo.
After Rapegate occurred, Ted kept vigil by being my constant companion, not leaving my side unless he was stuffing his pie hole.
Literally would not leave me.
When my mom came to stay with me, she thought it’d be a good idea for Bear and me to have another furry friend around. Now, I already have joint custody of Precious the Chug but Mama CBXB thought a kitten for Valentine’s Day would be the best gift in 2016.
Um….do we have a say?
We went to see my crazy cat lady gal pal, Penny, who runs Sweet Faces Cat and Kitten Rescue (in which I am happy to be the poster child since I have adopted six animals over two years from her – yes you read that right). Typically, I adopt adult cats, who stand a lesser chance of getting permanent homes as they grow older. But mom thought a baby would be good cuddle therapy.
Once the cage of kittens opened, the first one I picked up was named Elsa and the decision was immediately and easily done. My Iowa twins love the movie Frozen (what fucking kid doesn’t), so since I grabbed the princess from the movie, it was fate in my eyes.
Princess kitty cat.
Then, I stood up and locked eyes with this majestic beauty.
Deal not done.
I mistakenly asked to hold her and as soon as I put my face in the kennel, she rubbed her noggin against mine, purring loudly.
Then Penny pointed out her enormous brother in the back of the cage I never noticed because he didn’t move a muscle from the ball in which he was curled. She explained that they were brother and sister about three years old, surrendered by their owner. The big brother wasn’t coping well in foster care.
Double fuck me.
Well, really triple fuck me.
Who was I to split up a pair of siblings? The black beauty and myself already bonded in .00004 seconds. And her brother was so shy and sad that I was warned I may never see him come out from behind the dryer or under the bed. So yes, I lost my goddamned mind that Saturday and walked out with not one, not two but three motherfucking pussies.
An instant mom to triplets.
Now, on a side note, the always charming actress Drew Barrymore adopted three cats at once and made national headlines for her big heart.
I, on the other hand received sweet messages of support like…
And love notes left on my car…
On the way home from Pet Smart, not a fucking peep was uttered. As soon as I got to the mini manse, the boxes were opened and from that moment on, it was harmonious until Tedstar died a year and a half later.
Love, love, love, love.
RIP Baby Bear.
Penny reached out when she heard the news about Ted and offered my pick of the litter (pun so intended), when I was ready. I knew I wanted another Russian Blue mix and about a month later, Penny sent word that a handsome, shy gent was at Pet Smart. When I
raced arrived to check him out, there was a sticky note on his kennel door that read, “needs extra TLC.”
Sweet baby is on the right, afraid to come out.
Penny had instructed me to pet him on his head – hard – and as soon as I did, he cautiously came to me. When I lifted him out of the cage, he put both of his paws around my neck. You know what the fuck happened next.
Crazy cat lady shopping spree with an actual cat in the carrier!
Nothing strange here.
I texted Penny his photo on the way to his new home after the impromptu shopping spree at Pet Smart.
Mine. ALL MINE.
Obvies Fabio was meant to be mine and this was how he spent his first night in the mini manse.
Head rubbin’ on the bed.
So, in no particular favor order, I’m thrilled to introduce The Pussy Posse to you…age before beauty.
Precious the Chug
Age 12. Acts like a puppy. Looks like an Ewok.
Also known as Preshy, Presh, P, Pweshy (as my Iowa twins call her).
Presh is pretty much my sidekick in everything that I do. Without her emotional support after Rapegate and Ted’s passing and everythingfuckingthingelseinbetween…I’m not sure the state I’d be in.
We garden together.
We outfit shop together. DUH.
We drink together. Also DUH.
We take work meetings together.
We get groomed together.
And when I can, I like to match her to my hair.
She loves it. Obvies.
Rocky the Gentle Giant
Age 5. Also known as Bigs, Rocco.
Thinks he’s the size of a mouse.
Could teach pussy yoga.
Remember how he was sad and unable to even look at a potential owner until I got my grubby paws on him? He’s now happily the king of the mini manse.
Ruby Sue the Menace
Age 5. Also known as Thundercunt, Thundy, TC.
Wondering how she earned the endearing moniker of Thundercunt? I found her hanging on the blinds after she’d taken down the curtains.
Greetings of salutation after work one day.
The usual set up of the area.
Waiting on accolades as I tried to work around her mess to hang everything back up.
No shame in her game.
She has an obvious infatuation with curtains, as one night around 2 am this happened…
The actual fuck.
As I bolted out of bed, thinking I was going to end up on Forensic Files, I followed the evidence and concluded that in fact, it was TC. Rocky tried to help me hang the curtain back up but I said to hell with it and showered in my other bathroom the next few days.
Ruby Sue also apparently hates her life of rags to riches and walks the plank on my second level balcony every chance she gets. And she’s clumsy as fuck. So fate will be fate – and she’d land on all fours. C’mon, she’s a cat.
Fabio the Fuck Face
Age 3. Also known as Fabies, Faabs (pronounced Fahbs), Fartio and Fabio Le Pew.
This gorgeous guy farts and darts when he gets nervous. He has zero apprehension prancing around the mini manse and head butts like it’s his paying gig. He also has the regal look of daring you to a death match but couldn’t be more of a sweetheart, hence the nickname Fuck Face.
And his tail…oh that’s his best accessory.
Fabio Le Pew.
Princess Elsa Pants of Resting Bitch Face
Age 2. Also known as Pants, Stank Face and Smalls.
Remember how my mom thought a kitten to cuddle would be the best therapy for me? I’ve gotten my hands on this little shit for a good 29 minutes in the last two years I have had her.
But she loves her siblings and that’s all that really matters (except really, her world should revolve around me – there I said it).
She also loves sparkly accessories.
While I sound like a walking, talking billboard of how to remain single for the rest of one’s life, I don’t give a fuck (I also love candles and reading books – DREAM GIRL).
Just a natural weekend run for cat shit.
Except I do keep my dumpster wedding dress and veil in my car just in case I run into Mr. Right getting an equally large cat tree one day.
Oh hi there. You love cats, too?
There’s really nothing like coming home, being greeted by my brood with figure eights performed between my calves, head butts, tail wags and a game of tag with Stank Face. It’s also fabulous to pour supper in their margarita glasses (food, mind you), pour supper into my wine glass and settle in for an evening of furry snuggles.
So glad they’re mine.
I do expect you regular readers to memorize all names for the entire Pussy Posse, with nicknames included if you want to be true super fans. And if that’s too hard, I will let you buy me a Skinny Pirate next time we run into each other and I quiz you.