Happy St. Paddy’s Day! Hope you all get some delicious green beer and an Irish car bomb to drink today!
Every morning when we wake up, the D-Man and I capture each kitty, one by one, and cuddle them until they just can’t stand it anymore. The cat that protests the least is Elvis. He definitely tries to get away, but he’ll stay until we actually let him go. Bebe is next, and least amiable to the whole process is Mooney. He just really doesn’t like being loved on. And being our newest kitty, I keep trying to explain to him that he can’t just live with us without expecting to be cuddled to death, but he keeps protesting. I don’t understand it.
I’m not very good at getting any of the cats to stay. I guess I’m afraid of getting scratched to death. D-Man, however, is a master cat-capture-er, and he can grab a cat no matter where they hide, and force them to stay in bed with us until we are damn good and ready to be rid of them. It’s like he’s a cat master. Or he’s just way less afraid of claws than I am.
Mooney, though. He’s going to have to learn one of these days. I’ve never in my life had a pet (other than a goldfish) that I didn’t hug and cuddle every day to the point of driving the pet bonkers. My dog, Tina? She knew better than to try to escape my mighty cuddle grasp. Unfortunately, she developed diabetes almost exactly 1 year ago, and she has lived with my parents ever since.
I miss that dog.
But, as I was saying. Any pet of mine better fairly quickly come to terms with the fact that it’s going to get loved. And Mr. Moon Moon is no exception. He can cry and meow and chirp all he wants. He’s not getting let go.
That’s just not my style.