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About those cats

Remember how we got cats back in March? Random.

They’re brother and sister. They are THE BEST. I took them to the vet for the first time in a laundry basket because I had no idea what I was doing. I’ve never done cats before. I showed up and said, “I assume they need things like dogs. Do they make kitten formula? I think they’re super young?”

They were super young. Like 4 weeks old. I also, at one point, asked if there was such a thing as a kitten pacifier, because the grey one (whom we creatively named Grey Grey, because saying her name once is not as fun as twice) was trying to nurse on her brother. That doesn’t work. And it turns out, there is not.

The cats have grown. Grey Grey is rather fat and lazy. She has a big belly that swings back and forth. Bob is fierce. He is skinny, lean, lithe, all the classic cat words. He is a killer. There’s nothing that boy can’t catch: lizard, mouse, bird, snake, he makes up for his sister’s laziness. Although, I should defend Grey’s reputation a little. Hubs (whom I shall now refer to as Beak for reasons that will become clear in a later post) BURST into the house this morning to declare, “Grey Grey has caught a mouse and she’s SO proud. She’s throwing it in the air celebrating.”

We all cheered.

This is what I see when I pull into the garage. Terrifying.

One of his victims.

Don’t mess with Bob.

This one, on the other hand. All the laziness.

If you haven’t enjoyed a barrel of cats at some point in your life, you might be doing something wrong.

Sometimes when I walk past their room I do a double-take and circle back to get a pic.

Life is pretty good when you can lay under a lounge chair with your cat.

We should have known she was going to be lazy, curled up on the heater without a care in the world.

I don’t even know. It’s possible they are too tolerant.

The cats also love the trampoline. They spend more time bouncing on it than the kids. They also love Juno. I think they’re under the impression she’s a cat and they will eventually become as big as she is. They play with her, she chases them around, they get the zoomies together. We had to keep the cats locked inside the shop for 2 weeks after they were fixed. Poor Juno must’ve thought they disappeared. One night I let her out and she got all prancey like when she’s playing with them. I saw a flash of grey fur and it took a minute for me to realize. That was NOT a cat.

“Not a cat, not a cat, get in the house Juno!”

It was a possum. Close call.

We love the cats. As Beak says, they are lovable lovable idiots. Our lives have turned into real-life cat memes back and forth to each other every time we spot something absurd. And we’re so okay with that.

The mower is a highly sought after hangout. It’s kind of like the throne of the garage.

It’s possible Bob told her to “go sit on the mower” and she got confused. I don’t think I need to point out who has the higher IQ.

That or he did it on purpose so he could reign solo for a while…

The day is coming when he drops out of the heavens and lands on someone unawares.

Hey! I’m racing a week from tomorrow. It’s kind of a big deal. I’ll send out more info later, but download this app and you can track me live. The race is 10/21, Wilmington NC IronMan 70.3.

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