When Andrea and I hooked up, I was in-between gigs, sitting
in an adoption room at the Richmond PetSmart. She came in with a boy and we made eye
contact right away. Maybe it was because
all the other cats were in cages, but they let me sit outside because of my
obvious sophistication. I knew
things. Like my name. Manx’s don’t have tails, okay? We have these short things called rumpies. 'Bob', get it?
The irony wasn’t wasted on me, but it’s a nice short name, easy to
remember so I go with it. Hey, nobody's ever stepped on MY tail.
Anyway, they walked around looking at all my prison brothers and sisters and then came back to admire me. No competition, I thought, I’m about to get a new home. I hope you like chicken, too. But wait…hey come back! Nope, another false alarm. It happens all the time. “Where’s his tail? and off they all go. Oh well, I feel a nap coming on.
YAWN… did you check out these fangs?
So, about a year passes, or probably a week, human time still confuses
me, and what do you know, here comes mom and the boy again. I put on my best aloof air and check my claws. Looking good. I hear her say ‘Bob’ so this has to be a good sign. But, the boy is checking out my pal, Yago, in
a cage. Oh no, not HIM, he’s such a doof. The food-giver brings out boxes.
Hey, it’s my lucky day, but, oh how I hate
this box part. The bumpy ride, the whole uncertainty thing, the yowling from the other two
boxes. TWO!? Who’s in there? So, it turns out there are three of us, my bro
Yago, me, and this tiny, grumpy new kid they call Suzy.
Well, the new place turned out to be pretty chill, lots of carpet to tear up,
nice high counters to practice jumping, water and food dishes [no food yet, I noticed] and
a litter box they made sure to point out first.
They were totally obsessed with that box, but I told them, don’t worry, I’ve been to
this rodeo before.
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| First day at our new home with the boy, pretty exhausted by the end of that day. |
Things went really well for awhile. I’d settled in pretty good. Nice folks, good food, two laps, good yard. Soon after that came a third lap and a hot little 20'ish number named Tabby. She was my dream girl, even if she was a lot older and a little stand-offish.
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| MEOW-zers, will you check out those sultry eyes! |
After another really big time, things started getting strange. Stuff started disappearing into boxes. And, one day the boxes disappeared and next thing I know, Yago, [who they
now called Newfie for some reason] and I got stuffed into the car, and GET THIS…the litter box is
there, TOO! I told you they were
obsessed with that box. All that day and
into the night we rode and rode and that is how I came to live on Cape Cod at a
place they call a B&B. It's short for Bob and Breakfast. It was just Newfie and me. Suzi didn't make the cut, and Newfie, well he's buried in the garden, now. And, my dream-girl, Tabby got buried under a magnolia tree in Richmond. But, I’ve been
here another really long time that they call a 10th anniversary. I think that calls for a celebration. Chicken, anyone?
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This is my new front yard. I can't go outside anymore on Cape Cod, something about cars, ticks, coyotes, yada, yada but the view is really nice. Lots of wildlife to watch, and the sun makes a pretty good warm patch on the floor.
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| This is my new brother, Tom. It took a long time to break him in, but he'll do just fine. It's a good life. I hope we don't move again. I'm getting too old for that. Andrea says she is, too. |
The End, by Bob |
