Wordless Wednesday: Kitty Keeping Cool

Ruby

Starting Again ... (again)

I'm not all that jazzed about this particular topic to get my blog up and running again. But it's better than any I've come up with, so here goes, courtesy of RevGalBlogPals:

1. Did you grow up with pets?

Yes. We had cats, a dog or two, chickens, some fish, a baby alligator (or was it a crocodile?) and a burro, but not all at the same time.

2. Do you have any pets now?

Yes. I have a 13 year old cat named Ruby.

3. What is the funniest or worst thing any of your pets have ever done?

I can't think of anything outstanding in either category.

4. Who is/was your favorite pet?

I have a special place in my heart for Charley, the black cat I had during my teenaged years. Ruby is also very special to me.

5. How did you train your different pets?

You don't train cats; they train you!

BONUS: Pictures of a pet or one you wish you could have.
This is a picture of Maya who rules the household of my extended family in Baton Rouge.  She looks a lot like Jack, our former cat who has relocated to Portland, and it also resembles Eddie, Jack's little brother.

The adorable *&^%* CATS!

Jack is our "baby" kitty and he's going to be 6 years old this year. His name lends itself to nicknames -- like "Jack in the Box" which is what he is in this picture. Jack likes to do weird things, like play with elastic, find lingerie and drag it around the house, and eat packing tape off of open boxes. We have two other cats, Ruby and Mickey, who defer to Jack as the alpha male of the household, even though Jack hasn't been technically male since he was a baby.

My cats are somewhat freaked out that I'm not talking. They are even clingier than usual, which is ironically irritating. I like cats because, unlike dogs, they do their thing over there, while I do mine over here. Except my cats, perversely, like to invade my personal space with theirs. As I type this, Jack is sitting close enough to me that I can, with my fingers on the keyboard, stretch out the little finger on my right hand and pet him. His furry body spills over onto the computer keyboard and he keeps watch like my feline muse. I don't know who is taking care of whom around here. I never do.