Monday, March 29, 2010

The story of Bob

Bob. What can I say about Bob.

One day in 1992 my Dad walked out his front door and found a small, orange kitty. Poor little guy was covered in dirt and his tail, OMG, someone had mutilated his little orange tail. Off to the vet they went, to see Dr. Raatz (yes, rats). The Vet had to remove the little guys tail. He told my Dad that the kitty might not develop correctly, he might not have the ability to control his bowel movements. Seems the spine/tail all have to do with their ability to go to the bathroom properly. But the little guy came home.

Dad named him Bob, as in Bob Cat. I think deep down, Dad was naming him a bit for my brother Robin who passed away 3 years prior. Bob had a new home. The most wonderful home ever. With Herman and Helen.

He grew up nicely but was full of energy. It was a little hard for my older parents to deal with all that energy. Mom and Dad had an elderly chihuahua at the time and Bob didn't understand or get it that you are not supposed to pounce on the little doggie. But everyone got along quite nicely.

When I would come up to visit Mom and Dad over the years at Christmas, Bob would always be there..waiting. I thought he hated me...he would attack my feet when I arrived. Little did I know...he wanted to play. When I would sit on the floor he would sit in front of me, waiting...just waiting for me to push him away and play rough. He loved it. But I thought he hated me.

Fast forward to 2003. Mom and Dad had moved into a nursing home/Alzheimer's facility and Bob moved with them. They allowed pets and it might be good for Mom and Dad to have Bob there with them.

I went up to retrieve their dog, Wraggs. While up there I had to have my ancient kitty Misty put to sleep (Dr. Raatz again). When we got back to my brother's house, he made us lunch and sat down and said 'you need to take Bob'. I wasn't sure. I mean he was with Mom and Dad. But we talked to the manager of the facility and she told us that it might be a good idea. Mom was hitting at Bob and one of the other residents was muttering 'kill the cat, kill the cat'. So, I ended up with Bob too. I was technically without a cat for about an hour. I wasn't sure how Bob would adjust to me or now he would handle a 2 day drive in the car. I mean, I thought Bob hated would he deal with me?

Surprisingly it went well. The drive was great, Bob was great and Wraggs was awesome. I got them to my house here in Florida and let them out. The patio was a hit. Within days Bob discovered lizards and was quite prolific at the hunt. He loved it here, warm weather, good food, lots of love from me. We had almost 6 years together here. I lost Bob last year. It has been almost 9 months now. I still miss his yodeling in the middle of the night, even though I yelled at him. I miss him laying on top of me purring up a storm in the middle of the night. I miss him coming to me to ask me to wipe his mess butt (he had issues). Shoot, I miss him.

Every pet I've ever had has been special. Bob was special because he was part of Mom and Dad. He was my Dad's cat, although Mom took possession of him too. He was just special.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

The story of Wraggs

Wraggs has history. In the fall of 1997 she was being fed on the sligh by my 5 year old nephew, Graham, he is a good kid. His Mom found out and thought, we cannot have another dog so she called my Dad and asked him if he would like a dog. Dad said no so Donna took Wraggs up to the Humane Society.

My sister was residing with my parents, helping them out. She would go over to visit my brother and his family.... so one day after Wraggs went to the Humane Society my sister in law told my sister that she was sorry that they didn't take the dog. My sister was livid. She totally figured it was Mom who decided that the dog shouldn't be there. My sister and Mom had history, not saying my Mom was perfect, she was anything but.....but sister always assumed the worst. Sis drove back to the parents and point blank asked Mom, 'WHY DID YOU NOT WANT THAT DOG??' My mother asked, 'What dog? Herman, we want that dog'. So my poor Dad, who didn't want a dog, got a dog.

Dad had reasons he didn't want a dog. He was 76 years old and worried what would happen to the pets when he and Mom could no longer care for them. Understandable, but in my family....we LOVE our pets. Wraggs would always have a home.

In order to placate Dad, make Wraggs his dog, he got to name her. He named her Rags after a dog he had as a kid. He always talked about that dog. My sister decided the name needed to be more unique so she spelled it Wraggs. It works.

Wraggs had a great home. She LOVED her old people.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010


Well, I've been home and unemployed for a week now. I'm still stressing about the old job. I dreamt about it this morning and when I woke up at 6:30 I was thinking about the whole thing. How I was treated, what went on, when it went on......I'm ready to be over that place. I need to get them out of my system. And my mind.

I've been good about working out. I've started running as part of my morning workout. I don't run far or fast but it is a start for me. I do my best to work out every day. It is hard but I do it. Actually it isn't hard and I am motivated. Of course I will get the lecture from the Doc's office tomorrow (you need to lose weight). Well, DUH!

Ah, the heathens....Hermie has learned a new 'trick' to climb to the top shelf of my closet. He won't give up, he has to go to the top. MUST GO UP MOM!!! Louie is the good boy. Now that is a shock to me. Louie still is interested in harassing Ellie. That won't change. He is who he is. I love them both. And they are great photo subjects.

Wraggs is getting more walkies and less treats. The more walkies thrill her but the less treats ticks her off.

And Ellie...she LOVES having Mom home. She really is the sweetest tub of lard.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Why is the hooman home all the time now?

I have a feeling the pets are going to be asking that next week.

Today was my last day at my job. I was told on Wednesday that my last day would be today. Normally I guess they give contractors 30 days notice. I got three. Nice.... My replacement is the guy they fired a year and a half ago because he just would not show up on time, or at all and if he did he was hungover. It sounds like a great choice to me!

I came home and applied for unemployment. I will get another job, a better job, a job that is good fit for me.

But for the time being, I will enjoy the time with the Heathens, Ellie and Wraggs. I am going to be good and exercise every day, helps my mind and my body (which needs some work). I need to feel good about me again.

I'm pretty sure the pets are going to get tired of me being home but I will enjoy every minute with them.